IGHT
Honourable, It vvas my good happe not longe since, in a Friends
House,
to light vpon a briefe History of the Life, Arraignement, and Death of
that Mirrour of all true Honour, and Vertue Syr Thomas More,
vvho by his Wisdome, Learning, & San[c]tity, hath eternized his
Name,
Cou[n]trey, & Profession, throughout the Christian World, vvith
immortall
Glory, and Renovvne.
Finding, by perusall therof, the same replenished vvith inco[m]parable
Treasures, of no lesse Worthy, and most Christia[n] Factes, then of
Wise,
& Religious Sentences, Apophthegmes, & Sayings; I deemed it not
only an errour to permit so great a light to ly buried, as it vvere,
vvithin
the vvalls of one priuate Family: but also iudged it vvorthy the
Presse,
eue[n] of a golden Character (if it were to be had) to the end, the
vvhole
World might receaue comfort and profit by reading the same.
Hauing made this Resolution, a Difficultie presented it selfe to my
Thoughts,
vnder vvhose Shadovv, or Patronage I might best shelter the Worke: vnto
vvch strife, Your L A D I S H I P ,occuring
to my cogitations, put an end, vvith the B E A M S
of your VV O R T H , & H O N O V R;
so dazeling my eyes, as I could discerne none other more Fit, or
VVorthy
to imbrace, & protect so Glorious and Memorable Examples.
Of vvhose G O O D N E S I am so confide[n]t, that
vvithout
further debate, I iudge, this Enterchange of Friendshippe may worthily
be made betvveene the S A I N T and Y O
U.Y O U (Madame) shal Patronise his H
O
N O V
R heere on Earth; and H E, shall become
a Patrone, and intercessour for Y O U in heauen.

By
him, that am your Ladiships
profes-sed
Seruant.

T.P.

T H
E
P R E F AC Eof the Authour.

FO
R A S M VC H, as Syr Thomas More Knight,
sometymes Lord Chancellour of England, a Man of singular Vertue, and
of an vnspotted Conscience; & (as witnesseth Erasmus) more
pure,
and white then snowe: of so Angelicall a Wit (sayth he) that England
neuer
had the like before, nor euer shall againe:
A Man (I say) vniuersally well
studied, not only in the Lawes of our owne Realme (a study able to
occupy
the whole life of a man) but also in all other Scie[n]ces both Humane
&
Divine; was in his owne dayes (& much more deseruedly in these)
esteemed
worthy of perpetuall Memory: I
William Roper his most vnworthy Sonne in
law (by Marriage of his eldest Daughter) knowing no man liuing to this
day, able to speake more of his life and Conuersation, then my selfe
who
was continually resident in his House for the space of sixteene yeares
and more; haue at the request of diuers worthy friends, put downe in
wryting,
such thinges, touching the same, as I can at this present well cast to
remembrance (hauing through my negligence, forgotten many other very
notable
passages thereof) to the euent that all should not vtterly perish to
posterity.
The which I haue heere performed, to my ability, in a playne and humble
style; leauing the same as a fit subiect to a more skillfull, and
exquisite
Pen, when Tyme, and Occasion shall offer themselues, to dilate therof.

T H E

L I F
E
O F

Syr
Thomas More.

YRThomas
More was borne in London of worshipfull Parents. His Father was a
Student
of Lincolnes Inne, and brought him vp in the Latin-tongue, at S.
Antonyes Schoole in London, who was very shortly after, by his
Fathers
procurement, receiued into the house of that Worthy, and Learned
Prelate, Cardinal Morton; where though he was but younge in
yeares,
he would
in the tyme of Christmas, suddainly steppe in amongst the Players, and
there ex tempore, without any study of the Matter, or least
stay,
or stammering in his speach, make a part of his owne present wit,
amongst
them: which was more delightfull, and pleasing to the Nobles, &
Gentlemen
that vsed to be at Supper with the Cardinall, then all the
premeditated
parts of the Players. This Cardinall
tooke more delight in his wit, and towardnes, then he did of any other
temporall Matter whatsoeuer; & would often say of him, vnto diuers
of his familiar friends, who vsed dinner & supper with him: This
Child here, wayting at the table, whosoeuer shall liue to see it, will
proue a meruailous Man. And for his
better
furtherance in learning, he placed him at Oxford; where when he
was well instructed in the Greeke & Latyn tongues, he was then, for
the Comon Lawes of the kingdome put to an Inne of Chancery, called New
Inne; where in small tyme he profited so well, that he was from
thence
admitted into Lincolnes Inne, with very small allowance;
continuing
there his study, vntill he was made Barrister. After this,
to
his high Commendations, he read for a good space, a publique Lecture of
S. Augustine de Ciuitate Dei in the Church of S.
Laurence
in the Old Iewry in London, wherunto resorted one Doctor Corsin,
an excellent Scholler, and a great Deuine, and all the chiefe learned
in,
and about the Citty of London. Then was he
made
Reader of Fur[n]iuals Inne, where he remained for the space of
aboue
three yeares; and then he gaue himselfe wholy to deuotio[n] &
prayer
in the Charter-house at London, lyuing there Religiously foure
yeares
without vow; during which tyme he often resorted to the house of one M.
Colt (a Gentleman in Essex) who vsed many tymes to inuite
him
thither. This M.
Colt
had three daughters, whose honest and vertuous educations were the
chiefe
Motiues, that induced him to place his affection there: and albeit his
mynde was most inclyned towards the second Sister, for that he thought
her the fayrest, and best fauoured: yet when he considered, it would be
both a great griefe, & some shame also to the eldest, to see her
younger
Sister preferred in Mariage before her, he out of a kind of pitty, then
framed his affection towards the eldest, and shortly after maried her.
After this he co[n]tinued his study of the Law at Lincolnes
Inne
vntill he was called to the bench, and had there read twise, which is
as
often, as ordinarily any Iudge of the Law readeth. He dwelt all this
whyle
at Bucklers-bury in London, where he had, by his wife three
daughters,
& one Sonne, all brought vp in vertue & learning, from their
very
infancy: for he would alwayes exhort them, to take Vertue and Learning
for their meate, and Play for their sawce. Before he
had
euer beene Reader in Court, he was in the later tyme of King Henry
the seauenth made a Burgesse of the Parlament: In which, was by the
King
demaunded three fifteens for the Mariage of his eldest daughter vnto
the
King of Scots. At the debating wherof he alleadged such arguments &
reaso[n]s agaynst the sayd demau[n]de, that the Kings expectation was
vtterly
ouerthrowne[.] Whereupon
one M. Tiler a Gentleman of the Kinges priuy Chamber, being
their present,
with all speed carried word to the King from Parlament-House, That a
beardlesse
boy, had disaponted his Graces purpose. Vpon which reporte the King
conceiued
great displeasure agaynst M. More, & would not rest
satisfied,
vntill vpon a pretended causelesse quarrell, his Father was committed
to
the Tower, and there kept prisoner vntil he had payd an hundred pounds,
for a fine. Shortly
heerupon
it happened, that M. More comming about a suite to D. Fox,
Bishop of Winchester, one of the Kings priuy Councell; the
Bishop
called him a syde, and pretending great fauour towards him, promised
him,
That if he would be ruled by him he would not fayle to restore him
agayne
into the Kings fauor; meaning forsooth, as he afterwards coniectured,
to
make him confesse a fault agaynst the King, whereby his Highnes might
with
the better colour take occasion of displeasure agaynst him. As he came
from the Bishop, by chance he met with one M. Whitford his
familiar
frie[n]d, then the Bishops Chaplaine, but afterwards a Monke of Syon;
and amongst other talke M. More told him what the Bishop had
sayd
vnto him, desyring his opinion and aduise therein. Wherupon M.
Whitford
prayed him, for the passion of God, in no wise to follow the Bishops
counsel:
For my Lord my mayster (quoth he) to serue the Kings turne, will not
sticke
to agree to the death of his owne Father. So M. More returned
no
more to the Bishop: and had not the King soone after dyed, he was
purposed
to haue left the Realme, and gone to some other parts beyond the Seas,
knowing that being in the Kings displeasure, he could not liue in
England,
without great daunger. After this
he
was made one of the Vnder sheriffes of London, by which office,
and his learning togeather, he hath been often heard to say, that he
gained,
with but griefe of conscience, not so litle as foure hundred pounds by
the yeare: For that there was no matter of importance depending at that
tyme in controuersy in any of the Kings Courts, concerning the lawes of
the Realme, wherein he was not with one party in counsell. For his
wisdome
and learning he was held in such honour and esteeme, that before he
came
to the seruice of King Henry the Eight, at the suite and
instance
of our English Merchants, he was, with the Kinges consent, twise sent Embassadour,
about certayne businesse in co[n]trouersy betwixt them and the
Mercha[n]ts
of the Stilliard. Whose wise and discreete dealinges therein,
to
his high Commendatio[n]s, comming vnto the Kings eare, he called
immediatlye
vnto him Cardinall Wolsey, then Lord Chancellor, and willed him
by all meanes to procure, & worke M. More into his
seruice. Whereupon
the
Cardinall according to the Kinges pleasure, earnestly laboured with
him,
& amongst many other his persuasio[n]s, he alleadged vnto him, how
deere his seruice must needs be to the King, who could not out of
Honour
seeme to recompence him with lesse, then he should otherwise yearely
loose
therby. Yet was he loath to change his estate, and made such meanes to
the King, by the Cardinall, that his Maiesty at that tyme, rested well
satisfied. Shortly
after,
there happened a great shippe of the Popes, to ariue at Southampton,
which was claymed by the King as a forfayture. But the Popes Embassadour,
by suite made vnto the King, obtayned, that he might for his Maister
haue
Councell learned in the Lawes of this Realme, and the matter in his
owne
prese[n]ce (being himselfe an excellent Ciuilian) to be openly hard and
discussed in some publique place. At which tyme there was none, for our
Lawes, found more fit to be of Councell with the Embassador,
then M. More, who could reporte vnto him in Latyn, all the
reasons and
arguments on both sides alleadged. Whereupon
Councellors
on both parties, in the presence of the Lord Chancellour, & other
the
Iudges of the Star-Chamber had audie[n]ce accordingly where M. More
declared vnto the Embassadour the whole effect of all theyr
opinions,
and besides, in defence of his Clyent argued so learnedly himselfe,
that
thereby not only the Forfaiture aforesaid was agayne restored vnto his
Holynesse, but also he himselfe amongst all the Audience, for his
vpright
and commendable demeanour, was so greatly renowned, that the King from
hencforth by no meanes, or intreaty would be moued to forbeare his
seruice
any longer. Now, at his
first
entry into the Kings seruice, his Maiesty made him Master of Requests,
hauing the[n] no better place voyde, and within one moneth after he was
knighted, & made of his priuy Councell. And so from tyme to tyme
did
the King still aduance him, to places of Honour; and he continued still
in his fauour, and trusty seruice for more then twenty yeares. In which
time the King vsed often, especially vpon Festiuall dayes (after he had
done his owne Deuotion) to send for him into his owne Trauerse, and
there
in matters of Astronomy, Geometry, Diuinity, and such like Faculties
(yea
and often tymes of his temporall affayres) to sit and confer with him.
Many tymes also in the night the King would haue him vp into his
leades,
there to consider with him the diuers scituations, courses, motions,
&
apparitions of the Stars, & Planets. And for that he was euer of a
merry & pleasant disposition, it pleased the King and Queene very
often
to send for him, at tyme of dinner and supper, as also many other
tymes,
to come & recreate with them. But when he
perceyued
the King to take so much delight in his company, & discourse, that
he could not scarce once in a moneth get leaue to go home to his wife
and
children, nor that he could not be absent fro[m] court two dayes
togeather,
without sending for agayne, he disliking this restraint of his liberty,
did thereupon begin, somewhat to dissemble his merry nature, retyring
himselfe
by litle and litle from his accustomed mirth, so that he was from
thenceforth,
sent for orderly by the King, at such tymes as was conuenient. In this
meane
tyme dyed one M. Westo[n] Treasurer of the Exchequer, whose
office
after his decease, the King of his owne free gift, and offer, bestowed
vpon Syr Thomas More. And in the fourteenth yeare of his
Maiestyes
raygne, there was a Parlement holden at Westmynster, wherof Syr
Tho.
More was chosen Speaker: being very vnwilling to take that office
vpon
him, made an oration (not now extant) to the Kings Maiesty, for his
discharge
thereof. Wherunto whe[n] the King would not consent, he spake vnto his
Maiesty in this forme, as followeth. Sith I
perceyue
(most vndoubted Soueraygne) that it sta[n]deth not with your high
Pleasure
to reforme this my Electio[n], and cause it to be changed, but haue by
the mouth of the most Reuerend Father in God, your highnesse
Chauncellour,
therevnto giuen your Royall assent, and of your gracious benignity
determined,
far aboue that I am able to beare, to strengthen me, and repute me fit
for this office, as chosen theru[n]to by your Co[m]mons; I am therfore
now, and alwayes shalbe ready obediently to conforme my selfe to the
accomplishment
of your high Co[m]maundement, in most humble wise. Yet
with
your Graces fauour, before I further enter herinto, I make humble
intercession
vnto your Highnes, for two lowly Petitions: The one priuatly concerning
my self, the other concerning your whole assembly of Commons in
Parlament.
For my selfe (Gracious Soueraygne) that if it shall happen me to
mistake,
in any thinge, on the behalfe of your Co[m]mo[n]s in your highnes
prese[n]ce
or for want of good vttera[n]ce in rehearsal of things, to preuert or
impayre
their prudent instructions; it may then like your aboundant grace, in
the
Eye of your accustomed Pitty, to pardo[n] my simplicity, giuing me
leaue
to repayre agayne vnto the Co[m]mon House, there to conferre anew with
them, and take their more substantiall aduice, what thing, and in what
wise, I shall on their behalfe vtter & speake before your Maiesty,
to the intent thyr prudent aduises and affayres be not by my simplicity
and folly hindred or impayred. Which thing, if it should happen vnto me
(as it is not vnlikely) if your Gracious Benignity receiued not my
ouersight
therby, it could not but during my life be a perpetuall grudge and
rauines
vnto my hart. And this is my first petition vnto your royall
Maiesty. My other
suite
(most Excellent Prince) is, that forasmuch as there be of your Commons
here assembled in Parlament, by your high commandement, a number, which
after the accustomed manner, are appoynted by the common House, to
treat
and aduise of the common affayres apart, amongst themselues: And albeit
(most Liege lord) that according to your most prudent aduice, by your
Honorable
Writs, euery where declared, there hath beene a diligence vsed in
sending
vp to your Highnes Court of Parlament, the most discreet persons out of
euery quarter, esteemed most fit therto, whereby there is gathered, no
doubt, a very substantiall Assembly of right wise and politique
Persons:
Yet (most vertuous Prince) sith amongst so many, euery man is not alike
witted, or so well spoken, as other; and it often happeneth, that much
folly is vttered, in a paynted speach; As likewise, many that are
boysterous
& rude in language, do yet giue right good substantiall Cou[n]sell;
And moreouer in matters of greate Importance, the mynde happeneth to be
so busied, that oftentymes a man studieth rather what to say, then how
to speake, by reason whereof the wisest man, & best speaker in a
whole
Countrey, forthuneth sometymes (his mynd being feruent in the matter)
to
speake in such wise, as he would afterwardes wish, to haue beene
otherwise
spoken, and yet no worse will had he, when he spake it, then he hath,
when
he would so gladly chaunge it: Therefore (most gracious Soueraigne)
considering
that in your High Court of Parlament nothing is treated of, but matter
of weight & importance, and which doth chiefly, & meerly
concerne
this your most flourishing Realme, and your owne Royall Estate, it
would
please your Royall Maiesty, out of your abou[n]dant Clemency and
fauour,
to giue to all your Co[m]mons here assembled, your most gracious
licence,
and pardon, freely, without feare of your high displeasure, euery ma[n]
to discharge his Conscience, & boldly, in euery thing incident
amongst
vs, to declare his aduice. And whatsoeuer any man shall happen to say,
that it may like your Royall Maiesty, of your inestimable Goodnes, to
take
all in good part, interpreting euery mans wordes (how vnwisely soeuer
they
be spoken) to proceed of good zeale towardes the profit of your Realme,
& dignity of your Royall Person; the prosperous Estate &
preseruatio[n]
wherof (most dread Soueraigne) is the thing which all we your most
hu[m]ble,
& louing Subiects,according to the bou[n]den duty of our naturall
Allegiance,
most highly desire, and pray for. At this
Parlament Cardinall
Wolsey fou[n]d himselfe much grieued with the Burgesses thereof,
for
that nothing was either spoken, or done in the Parlament house, but was
immediatly blowne abroad in euery Alehouse and Tauerne. It fortuned
also
at this Parlament, that a very great Subsidie was demaunded, which the
Cardinall fearing would not passe the Lower House, did therefore
determine
for the furtherance thereof, to be there personally present. Against
whose
comming, after lo[n]g debate there made, whether it were better to
receaue
him, but with a few of his Lords, or with his whole trayne: Maisters
(quoth
Syr Thomas More) for as much, as my Lord Cardinall (ye wot
well)
lately layd to our charge, the lightnes of our tongues, for thinges
vttered
out of this house, therfore in my mind it shall not be amisse to
receiue
him with all Pompe, with his Maces, his Pillars, his Pollaxes, his
Crosses,
his Hat, & the great Seale too, to the intent, that if he find the
like fault with vs hereafter, we may be the bolder from our selues to
lay
the blame vpon himselfe, and those followers which his Grace bringeth
hither
with him. Wherevnto the whole House agreed, and receiued him
accordingly. After he
was
come and receaued in manner aforesayd, the whole house of Parlame[n]t
sitting
still in silence, and answearing nothing to what he demaunded, but
rather
contrary to his expectation, seemed not any way to inclyne to his
Request,
he said vnto them: Maisters, you haue here many wise & learned men
amongst you, and sith I am sent hither from the Kinges owne Person, for
the preseruation of your selues, and all the Realme, me thinkes you
should
giue me some some reasonable answere. Whereat euery man continuing
silent;
then began he to speake to one M. Warney, who making him no
answere
neither, he seuerally asked the same Question of diuers others that
were
accompted the wisest men of the house: To whome when none of them all
would
answere so much as a word, it being before agreed among them to answere
only by theyr speaker: Maisters (quoth the Cardinall) vnlesse it be the
custome of your howse, as of likelyhood it is, by the mouth of your
speaker,
whome you haue chosen for trusty and wise (as indeed he is) in such
cases
to vtter your mindes, without doubt heere is a meruailous obstinate
silence,
and thereupon he required answere of M. Speaker. Who first
reuerently
vpon his knees excusing the silence of the Howse, abashed at the
presence
of so Noble a Personage, able to amaze the wisest & best learned in
a kingdome; & after by many probable arguments prouing that for
them
to make answere, was neither expedient nor agreable with the ancient
Liberty
of the House; in conclusio[n] for himselfe shewed, that although they
had
with all their voyces chosen and trusted him to speake, yet except
euery
one of the[m] could put into his owne head all their seuerall wittes,
he
alone in so weighty a matter, was far vnmeete to make his Grace
answere. Whereupon
the Cardinall displeased with Syr Thomas More (who had
not in
this Parlament satisfied his desire) suddenly arose and departed. And
after
the Parlament was ended; at his House in the Gallery at White Hall in Westminster,
he vttered vnto him his griefes, saying: I would to God M. More,
you had been at Rome when I first made you Speaker of the
House.
Your Grace not offended, I would I had beene there my Lord (quoth Syr
Thomas.) And to wynd these quarrels out of the Cardinalls head he
began
to commend that Gallery, and said: I like this Gallery of your my Lord,
much better the[n] your Gallery at Hampton-Court; wherewith he so
wisely
brake off the Cardinalls displeasant talke, as it seemed, knew not what
more for the present to say vnto him. But yet for
a
Reuenge of his displeasure, the Cardinall counselled the king to send Syr
Thomas More Embassadour ouer into Spayne, commending vnto him his
wisdome,
learning, & fitnes for the voyage; and further told the King that
the
difficulty of the cause considered; there is none (quoth the Cardinall)
so meete, or able to performe your Maiestyes seruice therin, as he.
Which
when the King had broken to Syr Thomas More, and that he had
satisfied
his Maiesty how vnfit a voyage it was for him, he nature of the
countrey,
and disposition of his complexion considered, that he should neuer be
able,
nor likely to do his Grace acceptable seruice there, knowing right
well,
that if his Maiesty sent him thither, he should send him to his Graue;
yet shewing himselfe neuerthelesse ready, according to his duty,
although
it were with the losse of his life, to fulfill his Graces pleasure in
that
behalfe, the King well allowing of his answere said vnto him. It is not
our meaning M. More, to do you the least hurt, but rather thy
best
good; we will therefore for this purpose deuise vpon some other, and
imploy
your seruice otherwise. And indeed
such
entire affection did the King at that tyme beare vnto him, that he made
him Chancellour of the Duchy of Lancaster, vpon the death of Syr
Richard Wingfield, who had that Office before. And the king tooke
so
much pleasure in his company, that oftentymes his Maiesty would on the
suddaine go vp to his howse at Chelsey, to be merry with him;
whither
on a tyme comming to dynner, he walked in Syr Thomas Mores
garden
by the space of an houre, and held his arme about Syr Thomas Mores
necke. As soone as
his
Maiesty was gone, M. William Roper, a Gentleman of Grayes Inne,
who had married Syr Thomas Mores eldest daughter said vnto him:
Father, how happy a man are you, whome the King hath thus familiarly
entertayned
(for he neuer was seene to do the like vnto any man, except Cardinall
Wolsey, with whome the King did often walke arme in arme:) I thanke
our Lord God, Sonne Roper (quoth he) I find his Grace my very
good
Lord indeed. And I thinke he doth as singularly fauour me, as any
subiect
within this Realme; howbeit, Sonne Roper, I may tell thee, I
haue
no great cause to be proud thereof. But if my Head could wyn his
Maiesty
a Castle in France (for then there was warre with France) it
should
not fayle to goe. Amongst
many
other his vertues he was of such Meekenes, that if he happened to enter
into argument, or dispute with any learned man resorting to him from Oxford,
Cambridge, or other place (as there did diuers, some for desyre of
his acquainta[n]ce, some for the famous report of his wisdome and
learning,
and some about suites for the Vniuersityes) although very few were
comparable
vnto him as well witnesseth Erasmus:) & if in discourse, he
so pressed the[m] that they cold not well hold agaynst him; the[n]
least
he should discourage the[m] (as one that sought not his owne Glory) he
wold seeme conquered, & by some wise deuise, courteously breake off
into some other matter, & giue ouer. Of whome for his wisdome and
learning
the king had such an opinion, that at such tymes as he attended his
person,
in his progresse either to Oxford, or Cam[bridge,]
where
he was receiued with very eloquent Orations, his Maiesty would alwayes
assigne Syr Thomas More, as one prompt, and ready therein, to
make
Answere thereunto, ex tempore. His custome
also
was, that whe[n]soeuer he came to any Vniuersity, eyther heere or
beyond
the Seas, not only to be present at Disputations and Readinges, but
also
to dispute very learnedly himselfe, to his high Commendations, and
generall
applause of all the assembly. During the
tyme
of his Chau[n]cellorship for the Duchy of Lancaster, he was
sent
twice Embassador, ioyned in co[m]mission with Cardinall Wolsey,
once vnto the Emperour Charles into Flanders, the other
tyme
vnto the French King at Paris. About this
tyme,
it hapned that the Water-bayly of London, who had somtimes byn Syr
Thomas Mores seruant, hearing certayne Merchants to speake somewhat
lauishly agaynst his old Maister, was so displeased therat, that he
came
with all speed to Syr Thomas More, & told him what he had
heard,
& of whom. Syr (quoth he) if I were in such fauour and authority
with
my Prince, as you are, such men as these should not surely be suffered,
so vncharitably & falsly to misreport & slaunder me. Wherfore I
wish you to call the[m] befor you & punish them. Syr Thomas More
smyling vpon him sayd: Why, M. Water-bayly, would you haue me punish
them,
by whom I receyue more benefit then by all you, that are my friends?
Let
them a Gods Name speake as lewdly of me as they list, and shoote neuer
so many darts at me, what am I the worse? But if they should once hit
me,
then would it not indeed a little trouble me: Howbeit I trust by Gods
helpe,
there shall none of them all be able to touch me. Therefore I haue more
cause, I assure thee M. Water-baily to pitty, then to be angry with
them.
Such fruitefull communication would he often tymes haue with his
familiar
Friends. So on a
tyme
walking a lo[n]g the Thames syde at Chelsey, with his
Sonne
in law M. Roper, and discoursing of many things, amongst other
speaches
he sayd thus vnto him: Now I would to our Lord God, Sonne Roper,
that three things were well established in Christendome, vpon
co[n]dition
that I were heer presently put into a sacke, & cast into the midst
of the Thames. What great things be those Sir (quoth M.
Roper)
that moue you so to wish? Wouldest thou know Sonne Roper, quoth
he? May it so please you Syr, with a very good will, sayd M. Roper.
In fayth Sonne Roper, they be these: First, that where the most
parte of Christian Princes are now at mortal warres, I would they were
all at an vniuersall peace. The seco[n]d is, that where the Church is
at
this present, sore afflicted with Errors & Heresyes, that it were
setled
in a perfect vniformity of Religion. The third is, that where the Kings
matter of his marriage is now come into question, I wish it were, to
the
glory of God, and quietnes of all parties, brought to a good
conclusion.
By which three things (as M. Roper supposed) he iudged, that
there
would be a great disturbance, through the most part of Christendome. Thus did Syr
Tho. More through the whole course of his life, by his actions make
it appeare, that all his trauels and paynes, without thought of earthly
co[m]modity either to himselfe or any of his, were only for the seruice
of God, his King and the Common Wealth, wholy bestowed & imployed.
And he was oftentymes, in his latter dayes heard to say, That he neuer
asked of the King, for himselfe, the value of one Penny. His dayly
custome
was, if he were at home, besides his priuate prayers with his wife,
children,
and family, often to retyre alone, and exercise himselfe in priuate and
godly deuotions: as also euery night before he went to bed, he vsed to
go to his chapell with his whole Family aforesaid, & there vpon his
knees deuoutly to say, certayne Letanyes, Psalmes & Collects with
them. And because
he
was alwayes desyrous of priuate Exercise, & that he might the
better
withdraw himselfe from worldly co[m]pany, he built himselfe a lodging a
good distance from his Mansion house, called the New Building,
wherein
he placed a Chapell, Library, and a Gallery to walke, spending many
dayes
in the weeke in Prayer, and Study togeather. And allwayes on the
Friday,
he did vsually continue there fro[m] Morning vntill Night, bestowing
his
tyme only in meditation, reading, and such godly Exercises. And the
more
to stir vp & encourage his wife, and children, to the desyre of
heaue[n]ly
things, he would oftentymes vse these speaches vnto the[m]: It is no
maistery
for you, my Children, to go to heauen; for euery body giueth you good
counsell,
and likewise many shew you good Examples. You see Vertue rewarded, and
Vice punished; so that you are caryed vp to heauen, euen by the chynne:
But if you liue to the tyme, that no man will giue you good counsell,
nor
shew you good example; when you shall see Vertue punished, and Vice
rewarded;
if then you will stand fast & sticke firmely vnto God; vpon payne
of
my life, though you be but halfe good, yet God will allow you for wholy
good. If his
wife,
children, or any of his Howshould, had beene sicke, or troubled at any
tyme with any infirmity, he would say vnto the[m]: We may not looke at
our pleasure to go to Heauen in featherbeds; it is not the way: for our
Blessed Lord himselfe went thither with great payne, and by many
Tribulations;
and hard was the path-way wherein he so walked: Nor may the Seruant,
looke
to be in better case, then his Maister. And as he
would
in this manner alwayes perswade them to take their paines and sicknes
patiently,
so would he in like forme teach them to withstand the diuell, & his
temptations valiantly, saying: Whosoeuer shall mark well the diuell and
his temptatio[n]s, shall find him therein much like vnto an Ape. For as
an Ape not well looked vnto, will be busy, and bold to do shrewd
turnes,
and being espied will suddenly leape backe, and aduenture no further:
so
the diuell finding a man idle, sloathfull, and without resistance,
ready
to receiue his temptations, waxeth so hardy, that he will not sticke to
continue still with him, vntill he hath wrought him througly to his
purpose.
But on the contrary side, if he see a man with diligence perseuere to
preuent,
and withstand his temptations, he waxeth so weary, that in the end he
vtterly
forsaketh him. For as the diuell by disposition is a spirit of so high
a Pride, that he cannot abide to be mocked; so is he of nature so
Enuious,
that he feareth to assault a vertuous man, least he should thereby not
only catch a foule fall himselfe, but also minister vnto the man, more
matter of merit. Thus he
euer
delighted, not only to busy himself in vertuous exercises, but also to
exhort his wife, children, and howshold to embrace, and follow the
same.
To whome for his notable vertues, God shewed, as it seemed, a
miraculous
and manifest token of his loue, and fauour towardes him, at such tyme,
as his daughter Roper lay dangerously sicke of the sweating
sicknes
(as many others did that yeare) and continued in such extremity of that
disease, that by no skill of Phisicke, or other art in such case,
commonly
vsed, (although she had diuers both expert and learned Phisitians
continually
attendant about her) she could be kept from sleeping, so that the
Phisitians
themselues vtterly despayred of her recouery, and quite gaue her ouer.
Her Father Syr Tho. More, as one that most intierely loued and
tendred
her, being in great griefe and heauinesse, and seeing all humane helps
to faile, determined to haue recourse to God by prayer for remedy.
Whereupon
going vp after his accustomed maner, into his aforesaid New
Building,
he there in his Chappell, vpon his knees with teares, most deuoutly
besought
Almighty God, that it would please his diuine Goodnes, vnto whome
nothing
was impossible, if it were his blessed will, to vouchsafe graciously to
heare his humble petitio[n]. And suddenly it came into his mynd, that a
Glister might be the only way to help her; of which when he had told
the
Phisitians, they all instantly agreed, that if there were any hope of
remedy,
that was the most likeliest; and meruayled much, that themselues had
not
before remembred the same. Then was it instantly ministred vnto her
sleeping,
& after a while she awaked, and contrary to all their expectations
immediately began to recouer, & in short tyme was wholy restored
vnto
her former health. Whome, if it had pleased God to haue taken away, at
that time, her Father sayd, that he would neuer after haue medled with
worldly businesse. Now whilst Syr
Thomas More was Chau[n]cellour of the Duchy of Lancaster,
the
Sea of Rome chaunced to be voyd, by the death of Pope Leo the
X.
which was the cause of much trouble; for that Cardinall Wolsey
a
man of a very high and ambitious spirit, aspiring vnto that sea &
dignity,
was therein crost and preuented by the Emperour Charles the
fifth,
who had commended the Cardinall Adrian (sometyme his
Schoole-maister)
vnto the Conclaue of Cardinalls in Rome, at the tyme of
election,
& so highly praysed him for his Worth and Vertue, that he was
thereupon
chosen Pope. Who comming from Spayne (where he was then
resident)
to Rome, entred into the Citty towardes his Pallace
barefooted with
such humility, that all the people had him in very great Reuerence. Vpon this
&
other like occasions, Card. Wolsey enraged with anger, studied
all
the wayes he could deuise to be reuenged of the Emperour, which as it
was
the beginning of a most lametable Tragedy, so some part thereof, not
impertinent
to my present purpose, I haue thought fit heere to insert. The Cardinall,
not ignorant of King Henries inconstant & mutable
disposition,
vsed all meanes to auert his Maiesty, from his wife Queene Katherine,
the Emperours Aunt, well knowing he would easily inclyne to that motion
vpon any sleight occasion. And so meaning to make the Kings flexible
Nature,
the instrument to bring about his vngodly purpose, he deuised to allure
his Maiesty (who was already, contrary to the Cardinals mynd,
and
knowledge, fallen in loue with the Lady Anne Bullen) to affect
the French Kings Sister. Which thing, because of the wars, and
hatred
that was there betweene the French King, and the Emperour
(whome
the Cardinall now mortally hated) he very earnestly indeauoured to
procure.
And for the better furthering this his purpose, he requested one Langland,
Bishop of Lincolne, and Ghostly Father to K. Henry, to put a
scruple
into the K. head; that it was not lawfull for him to mary his Brothers
wife, which thing the King (not sory to heare of) related first to Syr
Thomas More, & required his counsell therein, and with all
shewd
him some places of Scripture which seemed somewhat to serue his
purpose. Syr Thomas More perusing the said places, hereupon
(as one that
had neuer professed Diuinity) excused himselfe vnto his Maiesty, and
said,
he was farre vnfit to meddle with such affaires. The King
not
satisfied with this answere, pressed and vrged him the more; which he
perceauing
said vnto his Maiesty: that forasmuch as such a busines required good
aduise
and deliberation, he besought his Highnes to giue him sufficient respit
to co[n]sider aduisedly of the same. Wherwith the King well contented,
replyed, That Tonstall & Clark, Bishops of Durhan
& Bath, with others learned of his priuy Cou[n]sell should
also
be dealers therin. So Syr
Thomas
More departed, and conferred those places of Scripture with the
Expositions
of diuers of the ancient Fathers, and Doctours of the Church, and at
his
comming to Court & talking with the King of the aforesaid matter,
he
said: To be playne with your Grace, neither my Lord of Durham,
nor
my Lord of Bath, though I hold them to be both learned,
vertuous,
& holy Prelates, nor my selfe, with any other of your Counsell
(being
all your Maiesties owne seruants, & so greatly bound vnto you for
your
manifold enefits dayly bestowed vpon vs) be in my iudgment fit
Counsellors
for your Grace herein. But if your Maisty desyre to vnderstand the
Truth,
such Counsellors may be found, as neither for respect of worldly
commodity,
nor for feare of your Princely authority, will any way be drawne to
deceiue
you. And then he named vnto the King S. Hierome, S. Augustine
and
diuers others auncient Fathers & Doctors of the Church, both Greeke
an[d] Latin; and further shewed his Maiesty, what authority he had
gathered
forth of them: of which although the King (as not fitting to his
purpose)
did not very well like; yet were they by Syr Thomas More so
wisely
alleaged, and so tempred with discretion, that the King at that tyme,
tooke
it in good part, and had oftentimes conference with him againe, about
the
same matter. After this
there
were certayne questions propounded to the Kings Counsell whether in
this
case the King needed to haue any scruple at all: and if he had, what
was
the best way to free him of it? The greater part of the Counsell were
of
opinion, that there was good cause of scruple, and that for his
Maiesties
discharge therin, it was fit suite should be made vnto the Sea of Rome,
where the King thought that by his liberality, he might with ease
obtayne
his purpose. The[n] was
there
procured from Rome a commission for the tryall of this Mariage,
wherein Cardinall Campegius, and Cardinal Wolsey were
ioyned
commissioners, who for the determination therof, sate at the Blacke-Fryers
in London, where a Libell was put in, for the annulling of the said
Matrimony,
affirming the Mariage betweene the King and Queene to be vnlawfull.
Then
againe, for proofe therof to be lawfull, there was produced a
dispensation,
in which (after diuers disputations thereupo[n] holden) there appeared
an imperfection; which notwithstanding by an other instrument, or brief
found out vpon search, in the Treasury of Spayne, & sent
ouer
to the commissioners in Engla[n]d, was supplyed; & so
should
iudgme[n]t haue ben giuen by the Pope accordingly, had not the King
vpon
intelligence therof before the same Iudgment, appealed to a Generall
Cou[n]cell.
After whose Appellation, the Cardinalls sate no more vpon that
businesse. It
happened,
before the said matter of Mariage brought in Question, that M. Roper
being one day in discourse with Syr Tho. More, did with a kind
of
ioy, congratulate with his said Father, for the happy Estate of the
Realme
that had so Catholique a Prince, as no Heretique durst shew his face,
so
vertuous and learned a Clergy, so graue and sound a Nobility, and so
louing
and obedient Subiects, all in one fayth agreeing togeather. Troth, it
is
so indeed, Sonne Roper (quoth he:) and then commended all
degrees
and estates of the same, far beyond M. Roper. And yet Sonne Roper
(quoth he) I pray God, that some of vs (as high as we seeme to sit vpon
the Mountaynes, treading Heretiques vnder our feete like Ants) liue not
to see the day, when we gladly would wish to be in league and
composition
with those whom you call Heretiques, & to let them haue their
Churches
quietly to themselues, vpon co[n]dition, that they would be content to
let vs haue ours, quietly to our selues. Then M.
Roper
produced many reasons to the contrary & saw no cause why any should
say so. Well, well, Sonne Roper (quoth he) I pray God some of
vs
liue not till that day, and said no more. To whome M. Roper
replyed,
By my troth Syr, this is desperatly spoken, seeming to be halfe angry
with Syr Thomas More: who perceiuing the same, said merrily
vnto him:
Well, well, So[n]ne Roper, It shall not be then, since you will
not haue it so. Thus was he of so excellent a temper, that those who
liued,
& were co[n]tinually co[n]uersant with him in his house, for the
space
of twenty yeares and vpwardes, could neuer perceiue him to be once
moued,
or to make the least shew of anger. But to
returne
agayne where I left. After the supplying of the dispensation, sent vnto
the commissioners into England, as is before rehearsed, the
King
taking the businesse to himselfe, as not then mynding to proceed any
further
in the matter, assigned the bishop of Durham and Syr Thomas
More
to go Embassadours to Cambray (a place neither Imperiall, nor
French)
to treat a Peace betweene the Emperour, the Fre[n]ch King, &
himselfe;
in the concluding wherof Syr Tho. More so worthily managed the
busines,
that he procured therby much more benefit for the Kingdome, then was at
that tyme by the King and his Cou[n]sell thought possible could be
co[m]passed.
For whose good seruice in that Embassy, the King (when he after made
him
Lord Chauncellour) caused the Duke of Norfolke, to declare
openly
to the people, how much all England was bounden vnto him, as
you
shall see heerafter more at large. Now vpon
the
co[m]ming home of the Bishop of Durham, and Syr Thomas More
from Cambray aforsayd, the King began to renew agayne his old
suite,
and was very earnest in persuading Syr Thomas More to agree
vnto
the matter of his marriage, vsing all the wayes, and meanes he could
deuise
to draw him to his part, and as it was thought did the rather for that
end soone after create him Lord Chauncellour of England. And the King
said
further vnto him, that although at his going to Cambray, he was
in vtter despaire to obtaine dispensation thereof; yet now he had
conceiued
some good hope to co[m]passe the same; alleaging, that albeit his
Marriage,
as being agaynst the positiue Law of the Church, & the written Law
of God, was holpen by the dispensation; yet is here another thing found
out of late (quoth the King) wherby his Marriage appeareth so directly
agaynst the law of Nature, that it can in no wise, by the Church be
dispensable,
as Doctor Stokesly (whome he had then preferred to the
Bishopricke
of London) can well instruct you, with whome, vpon this point,
I
would haue you to confer. So they
conferred
togeather. But for all the Conference, Syr Thomas More could
not
be induced to change his opinion therein: Yet notwithstanding did the
Bishop
in his Report of him to the King affirme falsely, that he found Syr
Thomas More, in the Kings cause, very forward, as being desirous
to
find some good matter, wherewith he might serue the Kings contentment,
in that case. Now, this
Bishop Stokesley,
hauing a litle before, byn by Cardinal Wolsey openly rebuked in
the S[t]arre-chamber, & awarded to the Fleete, he not well
brooking
this contumelious vsage; and knowing that forasmuch as the Cardinall,
for
his backewardnes in pursuing the Kings diuorse, was falling out of his
Highnes fauour; and that he had now espied a fit opportunity to reuenge
his quarell agaynst him; at last preuayled so far, that the Cardinall
was
soone after displaced from his office of high Chancellorship, and the
same
was conferred vpon Syr Thomas More, hoping therby so to win him
to his syde, that he would yield his consent for the matter of
diuorse. Then was Syr
Thomas More betweene the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolke,
brought through Westminster Hall, to his place in the Chancery,
and the Duke of Norfolke in the audience of all the people
there
assembled, shewed, that he was from the King himselfe straitley charged
by speciall commission, to publish there openly in the presence of them
all, how much all England was beholding to Syr Thomas More,
for his good seruice: and how worthily he deserued the highest roome in
the Kingdome; and further how deere his Maiesty loued & trusted
him;
wherein (quoth the Duke) he hath great cause to reioyce, & prayse
Almighty
God. Whereunto Syr
Thomas More (amongst diuers other wise and learned speches) made
answere
and replyed, that allthough he had good cause to take comfort of his
Highnes
singular fauour towards him, to whome therefore he acknowledged
himselfe
most deeply bounden; yet neuerthelesse he must for his owne part needes
confesse, that in all those things, by the Duks Grace here alleaged, he
had done nothing, but what was his duty. And furthermore said, That he
was very vnfit for that dignity, wherein (considering how wise and
worthy
a Prelate, had lately before taken so great a fall) he said he had no
great
cause to reioyce. And as they had before in the Kings behalfe, charged
him to minister Iustice vprightly & indiffere[n]tly to the people,
without corruption or affection: so did he likewise charge them agayne,
that if they saw him, at any time to digresse, in the least thing,
touching
any part of his duty, in that honourable Office, euen as they would
discharge
their owne duty and fidelity to God and the King, they would not fayle
to declare the same to his Maiesty; who otherwise, might haue iust
cause
to lay the whole fault vpon them, and to their charge. Now, when
he
was Lord Chauncellour, on a tyme being at leasure (as seldome he was) a
Sonne in law of his, who had marryed one of his daughters, spake
merrily
vnto him saying: When Cardinall Wolsey was Lord Chancellour,
not
onely diuers of his priuy Cha[m]ber, but such also as were but his very
door-keepers got much proffit: and now sith I haue maryed one of your
daughters,
and giue my dayly attendance vpon you, I thinke I might of reason looke
for somthing, but you spoyle all markets, Syr, because you be so redy
your
selfe to heare euery man, aswell poore as rich, & besides you keepe
no doores shut agaynst them, which is to me no small hinderance and
discourageme[n]t;
whereas otherwise some for friendshippe, some for kyndred, but most for
profit, would be glad to haue my furtherance to bring them to your
presence.
And now as the case stands, if I should take any thing of them, I know
I should do them much wrong, for that they may do as much for
themselues,
as I am able to do for the[m]. Which thing though it be in you very
commendable,
yet to me your Sonne I find it nothing profitable. You say
well,
Sonne (quoth Syr Thomas More) I do not mind like that you are
so
scrupulous of conscience, for there be many other wayes, whein I may
both
do you good, and pleasure your friend also; for sometyme may I by my
word
stand your friend insteed, and sometime I may by my letters help him or
if he haue a cause depending before me, at your request I may heare him
before another; or if his cause be not altogether of the best, yet may
I moue the partyes to fall to some reasonable end, or compound by
arbitrement:
Howbeit this one thing, Sonne, I assure thee; on my Fayth, that if the
parties will at my hands call for iustice, then if it were my Father
that
stood on the the one side, and the Diuell on the other side, his cause
being good, the Diuell surely should haue right. So offered
he
to his Sonne as much fauour as he thought he could in reason require.
And
that he would for no respect digresse neuer so litle fro[m] iustice,
did
plainely appeare by another of his Sonns in-law, one M. Giles Heron,
who had a sorry suite depending before him in the Cha[n]cery, yet
presuming
much vpon his Fathers fauour, would in no wayes be perswaded by him to
come to an indifferent compostio[n] with his aduersary; wherevpon in
triall
of the matter, Syr Thomas More pronounced sentence agaynst
him. He vsed
euery
afternoone to sit in his open Hall, to the end, that whosoeuer had any
suit vnto him, they might the more boulder come to his presence, and
there
to open theyr Complayints before him. Also his manner was, to read
euery
Bill himselfe, before he would grant any Sub pœna, and hauing
read
it, he would either set his hand vnto it, or else cancell it. Whensoeuer
he
passed throgh Westminster Hall, to his place in Chancery, by the Court
of Kings Be[n]ch, if his Father (one of the iudges therof) had bin
there
set before he came, he would go into the same Court, & there most
reuerently
vpon his knees before the whole Assembly, aske his Father blessing. As
likewise, if his Father and he chanced to meet at the Lecture in L
Lincolnes
Inne (as oftentymes they did) yet, notwithstanding his high place
&
Office, would he offer in Argument, the preheminence vnto his Father;
nor
would himselfe accept thereof, vntill his Father had refused it. And for
further
declaration of his naturall affection, & loue towardes his Father,
when he lay sicke vpon his death bed, he did not only (according to his
duty) oftentymes come and visit him, with all manner of comfort, but
also
at his departure out of the world, he tooke him about the Necke,
kissed,
& imbraced him, commending his soule into mercyfull hands of
Almighty
God, and so departed. Whilest he
was
Lord Chancellour, he graunted but few Iniunctions; yet were they by
some
of the Iudges of the Law misliked, which M. Roper
vnderstanding,
declared the same vnto Syr Thomas More, who answered, that they
should haue litle cause to find fault with him therfore. Whereupon he
caused
one M. Crooke, chiefe of the six Clarkes to make a Docket
conteyning
the whole number and causes of all such Iniunctions, as either in his
tyme
had already passed, or at the present depended in any of the Kings
Courts
at Westminster before him; which done, he one day inuited all the
Iudges
to dinner with him in the Counsell Cha[m]ber at Westminster, and after
dynner, when he had broken with them, what co[m]playnts he had heard of
his Iniunctions, & moreouer had shewed them the number and causes
of
euery one in order, truly & playnely, they were all inforced to
confesse,
that themselues in like cases could haue done no otherwise. Then made
he
this offer vnto them, That if the Iudges of euery Court (vnto whome the
reformation of the rigour of the Law, by reason of their Office most
especially
appertayned) would vpon reasonable considerations in their owne
discretions
(as he thought they were bound to do in conscience) mitigate, and
reforme
the rigour of the law themselues, there should from thenceforth be no
more
Iniunctions graunted out by him. Whereunto when they refused to
condescend,
then said he vnto them: For asmuch as your selues (my Lordes) force me
to that necessity, of granting out Iniunctions, for reliefe of the
peoples
iniuries, you cannot hereafter any more iustly blame me. After that,
he
spake priuatly to M. Roper saying: I perciue why they liked not
to do so, for they see that they may by the verdict of the Iury, cast
all
quarrels vpon those whome they account their cheife defence; and
therefore
am I compelled, to abide the aduenture of all such Reports. Now in the
tyme
of his Chancellourshippe, allthough he had but litle leasure to busy
himselfe
in the study of holy Scriptures and Controuersies in Religion, with
other
such like Exercises, being in a manner continually imployed about the
affaires
of the King and Kingdome; yet did he take many watchfull paines in
setting
forth diuers profitable workes, in the defence of Christian Religion,
agaynst
Heresies, that then were blowne abroad. In so much that the Bishops, to
whose Pastorall care that Reformation chiefly belo[n]ged, seeing
themselues,
by his trauell (wherein by their owne confession, they were not any way
able to compare with him) in great part discharged of their dutyes in
that
behalfe; & considering, that for all the Princes fauor, & his
great
Office he was no rich man, nor had in yearly reuenewes adua[n]ced
himselfe
as his worthynes deserued, therefore at a Conuocation, holden amongst
themselues,
and others of the Clergy, they agreed to recompence him with a summe of
fiue thousand pounds, for the paynes taken in their behalfe. To the
payment
whereof euery Bishop, Abbot, and others of the Clergy, according to the
rates of their abiltyes, became liberall Contributaries; hoping that
this
their liberality would giue him good content. Wherevpon Bishop Tonstall
of Durha[m], Bishop Clarke of Bath, & D.
Voysey
Bishop of Exceter repayred vnto Syr Tho. More,
declaring
how thankefully, to their discharge in Gods cause, they reckoned
themselues
vnto him; and albeit they could, not according to his deserts, so
worthily
requite his labours, & therefore must refer the same to Gods
gracious
goodnesse: yet for a small gratuity, in respect of his Estate so
vnequall
to his Worth, in the Name of their whole Conuocation, they presented
vnto
him the forsaid Summe, desiring him to accept of it in good part. But Syr
Thomas More refusing this their tender, said vnto them: That, as it
was no small comfort vnto him that so wise and learned men accepted of
his weake labours, for which he neuer intended to receiue any other
reward,
but at the hands of God, to whome alone all the thankes therof were
chiefly
to be ascribed: So gaue he most humble thankes vnto all their Honours,
for their so friendly and honourable consideration, and earnestly
intreated
them to returne euery man his money agayne. Wherefore
when
after much pressing him to accept therof, & cold not preuaile, they
besought him, that they might bestow it vpon his Wife, and Children.
Not
so my Lords (quoth he,) I had rather see it cast into the Thames, than
either I, or any of myne should haue the value of one penny therof.
For,
my Lordes, though your offer indeed be very fayre and friendly, yet set
I so much by my pleasure, & so litle by my profit, that I would
not,
in good fayth, for so much, and much more, to haue lost so many a good
nights sleepe, as I spent vpon the same. And yet I would wish, for all
that, vpon conditio[n] that Heresies were suppressed, that all my
Bookes
were burned & my labour lost. Thus departed they from him, and were
driuen to returne euery man his owne money agayne. This Lord
Chancellour,
although he was well knowne, both to God and the world to be a man of
most
eminent Vertue, though not so considered of euery man; yet for the
auoyding
of singularity would he appeare to the ey of the world no otherwise
then
other men, as well in his apparell, as behauiour. And albeit he
appeared
outwardly Honourable, like to one of his Dignity & Calling, yet
inwardly
did he esteme all such things for meere vanity: for next to his naked
body
he wore almost co[n]tinually a shirt of hayre; the wch a
young
Gentlewoman, named M.rs More, by chance on[e] day
espying
as he sat in his doublet & hose at dynner in the so[m]mer tyme, and
seemed to smile therat, his daughter Roper perceiuing the same
(being
not ignorant of this his austerity) gaue him priuate notice therof, and
he did presently amend the fault, seeming withall sorry, that she had
seene
it. He also wore another playne course shirt without ruffe or collar,
vpon
his shirt of hayre; And many tymes he likewise punished his body with
whips,
made of knotted cordes; the which thing was only knowne to his daughter
Roper, who for her secrecy, aboue all the rest he
especially trusted,
for that as need required she did alwayes wash & mend his shirt of
hayre, which he would not discouer vnto any other whatsoeuer. Now, in
this
meane space, whilst he was Lord Cha[n]cellour of England, the
King
did one day greatly moue him, & desire him, well to weigh and
consider
of his great matter, concerning his diuorce. Syr Thomas More
falling
vpon his knees, most humbly besought his Maiesty to stand still his
gratious
Souerainge, as euer since his entry into his Royall Seruice, he had
found
him; and said, that there was nothing in the world more grieuous to his
hart, then that he was not able with the losse of one of his lymbes, to
find any thing for that matter, wherby he might with safe conscience
serue
his Maiesties turne. And that he had alwayes borne in mynd the most
Godly
wordes, that his Highnesse spake vnto him, at his first comming into
his
Royall seruice (the most vertuous Lesson, that euer Prince taught a
Subiect)
to wit, that he should first looke vnto God, & after God, vnto his
King: as in good fayth (said he ) I haue most sincerely done, or els
might
your Grace accompt me a most vnworthy seruant. To this the
King
replyed; that if he could not therein with his conscience serue him, he
was well content to accept of his seruice otherwise, and vse the aduice
of some others of his priuy Counsell, whose consciences would agree
well
inough therewith, nor would he neuerthelesse disco[n]tinue his gracious
fauour towards him, nor trouble his conscience any further with that
matter,
for the tyme forward. But Syr
Thomas
More perceiued by little and little, that the King fully determined
to proceede in his Marriage with Queene Anne, when he, with the
Bishopps and Nobles of the Higher House of Parlament, were for the
furtherance
of that matter, co[m]manded by the King to go vnto the Commons of the
lower
House, & shew vnto them, what the Vniuersities aswell of other
parts
beyond the seas, as of Oxford, and Cambridge had done
in
that behalfe, testifiying the same with their seales and subscriptions.
All which things (at the Kinges request, not shewing of what mynd he
was
therein himselfe) he opened to the Lower House of Parliament.
Neverthelesse
doubting greatly, lest further inconueniences might follow, into
[which]
(contrary to his conscience) by reason of his Office, he was likely to
befall, he made humble suite to the Duke of Norfolke (his
singular
deare friend) to be a meanes vnto the King, that he might, with his
Graces
fauour, be discharged from his Office of Chancellourship; in which for
certayne infirmityes of his body, he pretended himselfe not able any
longer
to serue. This good
Duke
of Norfolke comming on a time to Chelsey to dyne with Syr
Thomas More, found him in the Church, singing in the Quier, with a
Surplisse on his backe: to whome (after Masse was done) as they went
towardes
his house, together arme in arme, the Duke said: Gods body, Gods body,
my Lord Chauncellour, what turned Parish Clarke? You dishonor the King
and his Office very much. Nay (quoth Syr Thomas More smyling
vpon
the Duke) your Grace may not thinke, that the king your maister and
myne,
wilbe offended with me for seruing God his Maister, or therby accompt
his
Seruice any way dishonoured. Now, when
the
Duke (at the speciall intreaty and importunate suite of Syr Thomas
More,
had obtayned of the King, that he should be discharged of his
Chancellorship,
at a conuenient tyme appointed by the King, he repayred vnto the Court,
to yield vp the great Seale, which his Maiesty receaued of him, with
prayse,
and thankes for his good seruice done to his person and the Realme in
that
Office. And he further sayd vnto him in a gracious manner, that if in
any
suite he should heerafter haue vnto him, that either concerned his
Honour
(for that word it pleased the King to vse vnto him,) or appertayned to
his profit, he should euer find his Highnes, a very good, and gracious
Lord. After he
had
thus resigned the Office, and Dignity of the Chancellorship, and placed
all his Gentlemen & Yomen with Bishops and Noble men, and his eight
Watermen with the Lord Audley (who succeeded him in his Office)
to whome also he gaue his great Barge; he then called al his children
vnto
him, & asked their aduises how he might now in the decay of his
ability,
which by the surrender of his Office was so impayred, that he could
not,
as he was wont, maintayne them to liue al together according to his
desyre;
wherat when he saw them all silent, & vnwilling in that case to
shew
their opinions vnto him: Why then will I (quoth he) shew vnto you my
poore
mynd. I haue been
brought
vp, (said he) at Oxford, at an I[n]ne of Chancery, at Lincolnes
Inne, and also in the Kings Courtes, and so forth, from the lowest
degree
to the highest; and yet I haue in yearly Reuenewes, left me at this
present,
little aboue a hundred poundes by the yeare. So that now, we must
hereafter
if we will liue together, be content to become Contributours to ech
other;
but by my counsell it shall not be best for vs, to fall to the lowest
fare
first. We will not therefore descend to Oxford fare, nor the
fare
of New Inne; but we will begin with Lincolnes Inne
dyet,
where many right Worshipfull of good yeares do liue full well; which if
we find not our selues the first yeare able to mayntayne, then will we
the next yeare go one steppe downe to New-Inne fare, wherewith,
many an honest man is well contented. Then, if that exceed our
abilityes,
will we the next yeare after descend to Oxford fare, where many
graue, learned, & ancient Doctours be continually resident; which
if
our powers be not able to mayntayne neyther, then may we yet with
bagges
and wallets go a begging togeather, hoping that for pitty some good
people
will giue vs their Charity, at their doore, to sing Salue Regina,
and so still may we keepe company togeather, and be as merry as
Beggars. And whereas
you
haue heard before, that he was by the King, taken from a very good
liuing,
and aduanced to his Maiesties seruice, wherein he spent with paynfull
cares
and trauels, aswell beyond the Seas, as within the Kingdome, in a
manner
the whole substance of his life: yet with all the gayne that he got
thereby
(being neuer wastfull spender) he was scarce able, after the
Resignation
of his office of Chancellorship, for the maintaynance of himselfe, and
such as necessarily belonged vnto him, sufficiently to find meate
drinke,
apparell, and other such neccessaryes; all the land which he euer
purchased
(which he had also, before he was Lord Chancellour) not amounting to
aboue
the value of Twenty markes a yeare. And after his debts payd, he had
not
( his Chayne only excepted) in gold and siluer, left him the worth of
one
hundred pounds. In the tyme
of
his Chancellorship, vpon the Sundayes and Holy daies, when Masse, or
Eue[n]songe
were ended, one of of his Gentlemen did vsually go to his Ladyes Pew in
the Church, & say vnto her: Madame, my Lord is gone. The next
Sunday
after the surrender of his Office, & departure of his Gentlemen, he
went vnto his Ladyes pew himselfe, and with his Cap in hand, he made
her
low Courtesy, saying vnto her; Madame, My Lord is gone. In the
tyme,
before his troubles, he would talke with his Wife and Children of the
ioyes
of heauen, & the paynes of hell & of the liues of the Holy
Martyrs,
of their grieuous Martyrdomes, of their meruailous Patience, and of
their
sufferings & deathes, & that they died most willingly rather
the[n]
they would offe[n]d God: also what a happy & blessed thing it was
for
the loue of God to suffer losse of goods, imprisonment, losse of life,
and landes. Moreouer he would further say vnto them, That vpon his
Fayth,
if he could but perceiue, that his wife & Children would encourage
him to dye in a good cause, it would be such a comfort vnto him, that
for
very ioy therof he would run merrily to his death. By this discourse,
and
other such like, he gaue them feeling what troubles might afterwardes
chance
to happen vnto him, wherby he had so farre encouraged them before the
tyme,
that afterwardes when they happened vnto him indeed, they seemed a
great
deale the lesse. Now after
the
Resignation of his Office, there came vnto him to Chelsey, M.
Thomas
Cromwell (then in the Kings his fauour) with a message from his
Maiesty,
about which when they had co[n]ferred together priuatly; M. Cromwell
(quoth Syr Thomas More) you are now newly entred into the
seruice
of a most Royall, Wise, & liberall Prince, and if you follow my
poore
aduise, you shall in your Counsell-giuing, euer tell him what he ought
to do, but neuer what he is able to do. So shall you shew your selfe a
true and faythfull seruant, & a right worthy Cou[n]sellour: for if
a Lyon knew his owne strength, it were hard for any man to rule
him. Within a
short
tyme after [t]his, there was a Commission graunted forth and directed
to M. Cranmer (then Archbishop of Canterbury) to determyne
the matter
of the Mariage between the King, & Queene Katharine, at S.
Albans. Where at last, it was fully determined and concluded,
according
to the Kings desire: and then began he to co[m]playne, that since he
could
haue no Iustice at the Popes handes, he would therfore from thenceforth
separate himselfe from the Sea of Rome, and thereupon he
presently
maried the Lady Anne Bullen. Which, when
Syr
Tho. More vnderstood, he sayd to M. Roper, God graunt, God
graunt,
Sonne Roper, that these matters within a while, be not
confirmed
by Oath. About this
tyme,
Queene Anne was to passe through London fro[m] the
Tower
to Westminster, to her Coronation, & some few dayes before, Syr
Thomas More receiued a letter fro[m] the Bishops of Durham,
Bath & Winchester requesting him, both to keep them
company from
the Tower to Westminster to the said Coronation, and withall to
accept of Twenty Poundes, which by the Bearer thereof they had sent
vnto
him to buy him a gowne; which he thankfully receiued, but yet went not,
staying still at home vntill the Coronation was past. At his next
meeting
with the said Bishops, he spake merrily vnto them, saying My Lordes, by
the letter which you sent lately vnto me, you required of me two
things,
one wherof since I was well contented to graunt, therefore I thought I
might be the boulder to deny you the other: and also, because I tooke
you
for no Beggars, and my selfe I know to be no rich man, I thought I
might
the rather accept of your liberality with the more honesty. But indeed
your other Request put me in mynd of a certaine Emperour ( I haue now
forgotten
his name) that made a law, that whosoeuer co[m]mitted a certayne
offe[n]ce
(which I do not now neyther remember,) should suffer death, by being
deuoured
of wild beastes, except it were a Virgin that offended against the
same,
such reuerence did he beare vnto Virginity. Now, it so fell out, that
the
first who committed the offence, was indeed a Virgin, wherof the
Emperour
hearing, was much perplexed because for the example of others, he would
fayne haue had that Law put in execution. Whereupon his Counsell had
sate,
and long debated the case, suddenly there arose vp one amongst the rest
a good playne fellow, and said, Why make you so much ado about this
businesse,
my Lordes? The matter seemes to me but small, and easy to be decided:
For
let her first be deflowered, and then afterwardes she may be
deuoured. And so my
Honourable
good Lords, though your Lordships haue in the matter of marriage
hitherto
kept your selues pure Virgins, yet take yee good heed you keepe your
Virginity
still. For there be some, who first by procuring your Lordshipps to be
present at the Coronation, will next be egging you on, to preach for
the
setting of it forth, and finally compell you to publish Bookes vnto all
the world in defence therof. These are they that be desirous to
defloure
you, and then when they haue defloured you, they will not fayle, soone
after to deuoure you. Now my Lordes, it lyeth not in my power, but that
they may deuoure me; but God being still my good Lord, I will so
prouide,
that they shall neuer defloure me. And had he
not
byn one indeed, who in all his actions, and most great affairs as well
for the king as the realme during many years, was euer free fro[m] all
corruption, by doing wrong, or taking bribes; it would without doubt in
this so troublesome a tyme, of the Kings displeasure agaynst him, haue
beene deeply layd to his charge, therby to haue found any the least
hole
in his coate. But he alwayes kept himselfe so cleare, euen of suspition
of any such thing, that no man was once able therwith to blemish him;
although
the same was shrewdly many times attempted, specially in the case of
one Parnell, against whome Syr Thomas More whilst he
was Lord
Chancellour, in the suite of one Vaugham (Parnels
aduer[s]ary)
had passed a sentence or decree, by way of Iustice. Whereupon Parnell
made a most grieuous complaynt vnto the King, that Syr Thomas More
had, for passing of the foresaid decree, taken from the said Vaughan,
vnable for the Gowte to trauell abroad himselfe) by the handes of his
wife,
a fayre great gilded cup for a bribe. Vpo[n] this accusation Syr
Thomas
More was by the Kings appointment, called before the whole body of
the Counseil, where this matter was heynously laid to his charge. He
forthwith
confessed, that for asmuch as that cup was lo[n]g after the passing of
a foresaid decree, brought vnto him for a new yeares gift, he at the
Gentlewoma[n]s
importune pressing it vpon him, of courtesy refused not to receiue
it. Then the
Earle
of Wiltshire, Syr Thomas Bullen, Father to Queene Anne,
a
very great enemy to Syr Thomas More, and chiefe complayner of
this
busines agaynst him to the King, with much reioycing said vnto the
Lords
there present: Loe, did I not tell you, my Lordes, that you should find
this matter true? Whereupon
when Syr Thomas More had stood silent a while, smyling vpon the
Lord
of Wiltshire, he at length earnestly desired their Lordships,
that
as they had courteously heard him tell the one part of his Tale, so
they
would be pleased to vouchsafe him the indifferent hearing of the
other. Then he
further
declared vnto their Honours, That albeit indeed, he had with much
intreaty
receyued the cup, yet immediatly thereupon he caused his Butler to fill
it with wyne, and of that cup he dranke vnto her, and she pledged him.
Then as freely as her husband had giuen it vnto him, euen so, freely
gaue
he the same backe agayne to her, to giue vnto her husband for his
New-yeares
gift, which at his request (though much agaynst her will) she receyued
agayne; as herself and diuers others there present, were deposed before
them. So was this great Mountayne, was turned presently into
Molehill. So likewise
at
another time, vpon a New yeares day, there came vnto Syr Thomas More
one M.rsCroker a rich widdow, for whome
with
no small paynes, he had passed a Decree in the Chauncery, agaynst the
Lord Arundell,
to present him with a payre of gloues, and fourty pou[n]ds in Angells
within
them, for a New yeares gift. Of whom he thankefully receiuing the
Gloues,
but refusing the money, said vnto her: Mistresse, since it were agaynst
good manners to refuse a Gentlewomans New-yeares gift, I am content to
take your Gloues, but for your Money I vtterly refuse it; & much
against
her mynd, he restored her the Gold backe agayne. Another
tyme
also one M.rsGresham hauing a cause
depending
before him in the Chauncery, sent him for a New years gift a fayre
Gilded
cup: The fashon whereof he very well liking, caused one of his owne
cups
(though not to his mynd of so good a fashon, yet much better in value)
to be brought forth of his Chamber, which he willed the Messenger in
recompence
to redeliuer vnto his Mistresse, for with other condition he would in
no
wise receiue it. Now when
the
King plainly saw, that he could not by any meanes wyn Syr Thomas
More
to his syde, he went about by terror, and threates to inforce him
thereunto;
the beginning wherof, was occasioned in this manner. There was a
certayne
Nunne dwelling in Canterbury, commonly called The holy
Mayd of
Kent, who for the exteriour shew of her Vertue, and Holinesse, grew
into great esteeme amongst the common People first, and then amongst
others
and for that cause many Religious persons, many Doctors of Diuinity,
and
diuers others of very great accompt of the Lady vsed to resort vnto
her.
This holy woman affirmed, to haue had a Reuelation from heauen, to giue
the King warning of his wicked life, and of the abuse of the Sword and
Authority committed vnto him by God; and vnderstanding, the Bishop of Rochester,
Doctor Fisher, to be a man of notable vertuous life & great
learning, she repayred to Rochester, and there disclosed to him
her sayd Reuelation, desiring his aduice and counsell therein; which
the
Bishop well perceiuing might stand with the lawes of God, and holy
Church,
aduised her (as she intended,[)] and had warning to do, to go vnto the
King herselfe, and declare vnto him, all the circumstances therof.
Whereupon
she went, and told vnto his Maiesty her said Reuelation, and so
returned
home to Canterbury. Within a
short
tyme after, this so said Holy Nunne, made a iorny to the Monastery of Sion
situated vpo[n] the Thames, a litle aboue London, &
by
meanes of one M. Reynolds, a Father of the same house, visited
the
Religious therof. At which tyme it happened Syr Thomas More to
be
at Sion visiting some of his aquaintance there, & talking
with
the Nunne about some of her Reuelations, especially that which did
concerne
the Kings Supremacy and Marriage: which (he sayd) he might freely and
safely
do, without any daunger of the law, by reason the same was then neither
established by
Oath (as he himselfe had lo[n]g before prognosticated, neuerthelesse
in all the discourse, and passages of speach which he had with the said
Nunne (as it afterward appeared) he had carried himselfe so discreetly,
that he rather deserued co[m]mendatio[n]s, the[n] blame. At the
Parlament
following, there was a bill put vp for the attaynting of the forsaid
Nunne
of Canterbury, & of some other Monasticall persons, of High
Treason: as also Bishop Fisher of Rochester, Syr Thomas
More,
and diuers others, of Misprision of Treason. With which the King verily
thought Syr Thomas More would be so terrified, that it would
inforce
him to relent, & co[n]descend to his purpose; wherin, as it seemed,
his Grace was much mistaken. To this
Bill, Syr Thomas More was suiter to be receiued personally to
make answere
for himselfe in his owne defence. But the King not liking that,
assigned
the Bishop of Canterbury, the Lord Cha[n]cellour, the Duke of Norfolke,
and M. Cromwell at a day, and place appoynted, to call Syr
Thomas
More before them. At which tyme M. Roper thinking his
Father
had now fit opportunity, aduised him to labour these Lords for the help
of his discharge, forth of the Parlament Bill, who answered M.
Roper, that he would. At his
comming
before the Lordes, according to theyr appoyntment, they intertayned him
very friendly, and willed him to sit downe with them, which in no wise
he would. The[n] began the Lord Chancellour to declare vnto him, how
many
wayes the King had shewed his loue and fauour towards him; how gladly
he
would haue had him continue in his Office; and how willing he would
haue
ben to haue heaped more Benefits vpon him; how he could aske no worldly
Honour, or Profit at the Kings handes, that was likely to be denyed
him;
hoping by this declaration of the Kings fauours towards him, to induce
him him to fauour his Highnes busines of the mariage. And lastly he
requested
his consent vnto no more, but what the Parlament, the Bishops, and
Vniuersityes
had allready admitted, and confirmed. To this Syr
Thomas More mildly made answere, saying; There is no man liuing, my
Lordes that would with better will, do the thing that might be
acceptable
to the Kings Highnes then my selfe, who needes must co[n]fesse his
manifold
goodnesse, and bountifull benefits, most benignly bestowed vpon me:
Howbeit
I verily thought, that I should neuer haue heard more of this matter,
considering,
that from time to time, euen from the first beginning heerof I haue
declared
my mind playnly & truly to his Maiesty, which his Highnes euer
seemed
to me, like a most gracious Prince, very well to accept, neuer mynding
(as he said) to molest me further therewith. Since which tyme I could
neuer
find further matter, that was able to moue me to any other change;
which
if I could, there is not a man in all the wor[l]d that would haue beene
more glad therof, then my selfe. Many
thinges
more, of like sort, were heere vttered on both sides: and in the end
when
they saw they could not by any manner of persuasion, remoue him from
his
former determination; then they began to touch him more neerely,
telling
him, that the Kinges Maiesty had giuen them in commandeme[n]t, if they
could by no gentle meanes wyn him, to charge him in his Name with great
Ingratitude, & that there was neuer found seruant to his Soueraigne
so vngrateful, nor subiect to his Prince so trayterous as he: for that
by his subtile & sinister sleights he had most vnnaturally vrged,
&
procured his Maiesty to set forth a Booke, Of the Assertion of the
seauen
Sacraments, and mayntaynance of the Popes Authority, and therby
caused
him, to his great dishonour throughout Christendome, to put a sword
into
the Popes handes, to fight agaynst himselfe. Now when
they
had thus laid forth these, and all other such like terrours &,
threates
which they cold imagine agaynst him; My Lordes quoth he, these be but
Bugbeares,
only to affright Children, and not me. But to answere that, wherewith
you
do chiefly accuse me, I beleaue that the Kings Hignes, out of his
Honour,
will neuer lay any such thing to my charge, for there is no man in the
world, that can in that poynt, say more in my excuse, then his Maiesty
himselfe who knoweth right well, that I neuer was his procurer, or
Counsellour
therevnto, but after it was finished by his Highnes appoyntment, and
consent
of the makers therof, I only was made vse of, as a setter out, or a
placer
of some principall matters therein contayned; wherein, when I found the
Popes Authority so highly aduanced, and with so strong Arguments
mightily
defended, I said vnto his Grace: I must put your Highnes in
reme[m]brance
of one thing, and that is this, The Pope as your Highnes well knoweth
is
a Prince as you are, & in league with all other Christian Princes,
it may hereafter so fall out, that your Highnes and he may vary vpon
some
poynts of league, whereupon may grow breach of amity, yea and warrs
betwixt
you; I thinke it therefore best that, that place be amended, & his
Authority more aduisedly touched. Nay (quoth the King) that shall it
not,
for we are so much bound to the Sea of Rome, that we cannot do
to
much honour thereunto. The[n] did I further put his Maiesty in
remembrance
of the Statute of Præmunire, wherby a great part of the
Popes
Prouisions, were pared away. To that his Maiesty answered, that what
soeuer
impediment were to the contrary, yet should his Authority be set forth
to the vttermost: for (quoth he) we receiued fro[m] that Sea, this our
Crowne Imperiall; of which thing vntill his Grace told me with his own
mouth I neuer heard before. So that I trust when his Maiesty shalbe
once
truly informed of this, and call to remembrance my plaine and honest
dealing
therein, his Grace will neuer speake of it more, but rather quite
cleare
me thereof himselfe. Thus ended the Assembly for that tyme, & the
Lords
somwhat displeasantly departed. Then tooke Syr
Thomas More his boat homwards to his house at Chelsey,
togeather
with M. Roberts, and by the way was very pleasant. Which M.
Roper
seeing, was very glad therof, hoping that he had gotten himselfe
discharged
out of the Parlament bill. When he was landed, and come home to his
house,
they went into his Garden, and there walked togeather a good while. Now
M. Roper being very desirous to know how he had sped,
said: I trust Syr, all [is] well, because you are so merry. It
is so
indeed sonne Roper (quoth he) I thanke our Lord God. Are you
then put
out of
the Parlament bill Syr (quoth M. Roper?) By my troth
sonne Roper (quoth he,) I neuer remembred it. Neuer remembred
it, Syr,
(quoth M. Roper) a matter that toucheth your selfe so neere,
&
all vs for your sake. Truly, Syr, I am very sorry to heare it,
for
I verily hoped, when I saw you so merry, that all had ben well. Well,
well
Sonne Roper (quoth he) wilt thou know why I was so merry
indeed?
That would I gladly Syr, said M. Roper. In good Fayth,
Sonne Roper, I reioyced that I had giuen the Deuill a foule
fall, and
that with these Lordes, I had gone so farre, as without great shame I
could
not go backe agayne. At which wordes M. Roper waxed sad, and
then
they went both in. Now, vpon
the
report made by the Lord Chancellour, and the other Lords, to the King
of
their former discourse, and proceedings with Syr Thomas More,
the
King was so highly offeneded with him, that he playnly told them, he
was
fully purposed that the aforesaid Parlament-Bill shold proceed forth
agaynst
him. To whome the Lord Cha[n]cellour, and the rest of the Lordes said,
they perceiued the vpper House so precisely bent to heare him spake for
himselfe & to make answere in his owne defence, that if her were
not
put out of the bill, it would without fayle be reiected of all. But for
all this, the King would needes haue his owne will therein, or else
(quoth
he) at the passing therof, I will my selfe be personally present. Then
did the Lord Chancellour, and the rest (seeing him so vehemently bent
therein)
vpon their knees, beseech his Grace in most humble wise, to forbeare
the
same, considering, that if he should in his owne presence receiue an
ouerthrow,
it would not only encourage his Subiects euer after to contemne him;
but
also throughout all Christendome, redound to his great dishonour.
Adding
thereunto, that they doubted not in tyme, to find some other matter
against
him, which might serue his Maiesties purpose far better; for in this
former
busines, especially that of the Nunne, he is accompted (quoth they) so
innocent and cleare, that he is iudged of most men, rather worthy of
praise,
then reprehension. Whereupon at length, through their earnest
perswasions
the King was contented to yield himselfe to their counsell. On the
Morrow
after, M. Cromwell meeting with M. Roper in the
Parlament
house, willed him to tell his Father, that he was put out of the
Parlament
Bill; which newes M. Roper sent home immediatly to his wife,
willing
her to make the same knowne unto her Father. Whereof when he heard: In
good fayth Megge (quoth he) Quod differtur, non aufertur.
After this it happened that the Duke of Norfolke & Syr
Tho.
More met togeather, and falling into familiar talke, the Duke said
unto him; By the Masse M. More, it is perilous striuing with
Princes,
& therefore I would wish you somewhat to inclyne to the Kings
pleasure:
For by Gods body, M. More, Indignatio Principis Mors est. Is
that
all my Lord, (quoth he?) Then in good Fayth, there is no more
difference
betweene your Grace and me, but that I may die to day, & you to
morrow. In this
Parlament
was a statute made for the Oath of Supremacy, and lawfulnes of the
Kings
Mariage; and within a while after all the Priests of Lo[n]don, and
Westminster,
& with them Syr Thomas More only, & no lay man besides,
were cited to appeare at Lambeth, before the Bishop of Canterbury,
the Lord Chancellour, and Secretary Cromwell, Commissioners,
appoynted
there to tender the Oath vnto them. Vpon this
strange
citation Syr Tho. More, as his accustomed ma[n]ner euer was,
alwayes
before he entred into any busines of importance (as when he was first
chosen
of the Kings priuy Cou[n]cell, when he was sent Embassador,
appoynted
Speaker of the Parlament-House, created lord Chancellour, or when he
tooke
any weighty matter vpon him) prepared himselfe to Confession, heard
Masse,
and was housled, in the Morning, the selfe same day that he was to
appeare
before the Lordes at Lambeth. And as he
vsed
often at other tymes of his departure from his wife and Children (whome
he tenterly loued) to haue them bring him to his boate, & there to
kisse them all, and bid them farewell; at this tyme he would not suffer
any of them to follow him further than his gate, where with a heauy
hart
(as by his countenance appeared) he tooke his leaue of them, & with
M. Roper and foure seruants entred into his boate,
towardes Lambeth:
wherein sitting still sadly for a while, at last he rounded M. Roper
in the eare, & said: Sonne Roper, I thanke our Lord God,
the
field is won[n]e. What he ment by that, they did not well vnderstand,
yet
loath to seeme ignorant, M. Roper said; Syr, I am very
glad
thereof. And as they after coniectured, it was for that the loue he had
to God, wrought in him so effectually, that it vtterly conquered all
his
carnall affections. At his
comming
to Lambeth, he behaued himselfe so discreetly before the
Commissioners,
at the ministration of the forsaid Oath, (as may be seene at large in
certayne
Letters of his sent to M.rsRoper, extant in a
printed volume of his works) as they had litle, or nothing to lay vnto
his charge; yet durst they not, as it seemed, dismisse him, but
com[m]itted
him to the custody of the Abbot of Westminster for 4. or 5.
dayes;
during [which] tyme the King consulted with his Counsell, what order
were
best to be taken with him. And albeit in the beginning, it was resolued
that he should vpo[n] his oath be discharged; yet did Queene Anne,
through her importunate clamours, so farre preuaile with the King
against
him, that contrary to the Commissioners expectation, he was committed
to
the Tower. Now, as he
was
conducted thitherward by water, wearing a chayne of gold about his
Necke, M. Richard Cromwell, who had the charge of conueying him
to prison,
aduised him to send home his Chayne to his wife, or to some of his
Childre[n].
Nay (quoth he) that will I not, for if I were taken in the field by
myne
enemy, I would he should fare somwhat the better for me. At his landing
at the Tower gate, M. Lietenant was ready there to receiue him, where
the
Gentleman Porter demanded of him his vpper garme[n]t. Why heere it is
(quoth
he) & presently tooke off his Cap, and deliuered it vnto him,
saying;
I am very sorry M. Porter, that it is no better for you. Nay
(quoth
the Porter) I must haue your Gowne Syr. O I cry you mercy, good
M. Porter, for now indeed I remember, that my Cappe is not
my vpper
garme[n]t, but only the thatch of my poore old Tenement. So then was
he
by M. Lieutenant conueyed to his Lodging, where he called vnto him one Iohn
Wood his owne seruant, appoynted there to attend him,
who could
neither write nor reade, and swore him before the Lieutenant, that if
he
should heare or see at any time, his Maister write, or speake any
manner
of thing agaynst the King, Councell, or State of the land, he should
reueale
it to the Lieutena[n]t, that the Lieutena[n]t might make the same
knowne
to the Counsell. After he
had
remayned in the Tower about a moneth, his daughter Roper
(hauing
greatly desired to see her Father) made earnest suite, & got leaue
to visit him: at whose co[m]ming (after the saying of the seauen
Psalmes
& Letanyes, which he was euer accustomed to say with her) before
they
fell into discourse of any other matter, among other speaches he said
vnto
her: I belieue Megge, that they who haue put me heere, thinke
they
haue done me a great displeasure: But I assure thee on my fayth (myne
owne
good daughter) if it had not ben for my wife & you my Children,
whom
I acco[m]pt the chiefe part of my charge, I would not haue failed long
ere now, to haue inclosed my selfe in a straiter roome than this. But
since
I am come hither, without myne owne desert, I trust that God of his
goodnes
will disburden me of my care, and with his gracious help supply my want
amongst you. And I find no cause (I thanke God Megge) to reckon
my selfe in worse case heere, then in myne owne house. For me thinkes
in
this case, God maketh me euen a wanton, setting me vpon his knee, and
dandling
me. Thus by his
patient
suffering, and cheerfull demeanour in all his tribulations and
disasters,
it plainly appeared, that nothing seemed painfull vnto him, but rather
a profitable Exercise, for the good of his soule. Then whe[n] he had
questioned
a while with his daughter about his wife[,] Children, and houshold
state
in his absence, he asked her how Queene Anne did? Neuer better
Father
(quoth she.) Neuer better Megge (quoth he:) Alas, alas, it
pittieth
me to remember into what misery (poore Soule) she will shortly
come. After this,
M.
Lieutenant co[m]ming one [day to] his chamber to visit him, &
recou[n]ting
the many courtesies, and benefits that he had heertofore receiued at
his
hands, and therefore how much the more bound he was to entertayne him
friendly,
& make him good chere, which the case standing as it did, he could
not (as he would) do, without the Kings displeasure & therfore
hoped
he would accept of his good will and of such poore cheere as he had.
Maister
Lieutenant (quoth Syr Thomas More) now verily I belieue, all
you
haue said to be true, for which I do most hartily thanke you. And
assure
your selfe, M[.] Lieutenant, when you see me mislike my cheere, then
thrust
me out of your doores, as a very vnthankefull Guest. Now wheras
the
Oath aboue mentioned made to confirme the Kg.
Supremacy & mariage, was co[m]prised in very few wordes, the Lord
Chauncellour
& Secretary Cromwell did of their owne heads, adde more
words
vnto it, to make it appeare of more force, and to sound better in the
Kings
eare: which Oath so amplified, they had caused to be ministred to Syr
Thomas More, & to al others throghout the Kingdome. The which Syr
Thomas More perceiuing said one day to his daughter Roper:
I
may tell thee Megge, they that committed me hither for refusing
the Oath, not agreable to the Statute, are not by their own law able to
iustify my impriso[n]ment. And surely Daughter, it is great pitty, that
any Christia[n] Prince should, by so flexible a Counsell ready to
follow
his affections, & by so weake a Clergy wanting grace to stand
constantly
to their Religion, with flattery be so grossely abused. But at length
the
Lord Chancellour, & M. Secretary espying their owne ouersight in
that
behalfe, were glad afterwards to find a meanes that another Statute
should
be made for the confirmation of the sayd Oath so amplifyed, with theyr
additions. And wheras Syr
Thomas More had made a conueyance for the disposing of his
la[n]des,
reseruing onely vnto himself, an estate for terme of life, and after
his
decease some part therof to his wife & children, & other some
to
his Sonne Ropers wife, for a ioynture, in consideration she was
an Inheritresse in possessio[n] of more then a hundred pounds by the
yeare:
And likewise other some to M. Roper & his wife in
recompence
of their mariage money, with diuers remaynders ouer and besides: All
which
co[n]ueyances and assurances, being made and finished longe before any
matter (wherof he was attaynted) could be made an offence: yet by
Statute
were they now al clearly auoyded, and all the lands that he had in such
sort assured vpon his wife and children by the sayd co[n]ueya[n]ces
(co[n]trary
to order of the lawes) taken from them, and forfayted into the Kings
handes,
except only that portion which he had assured vpo[n] M. Roper
&
his wife, by reaso[n] that after the first conueya[n]ce, which was
reserued
to himselfe for the terme of his life, he had, vpon further
consideration,
within two dayes after, by another conueyance giuen the same immediatly
to M. Roper and his wife, in present possession. So as the
Statute
had only auoyded the first conueyance, forfaiting no more vnto the King
the[n] had byn passed therin; and the second conueyance passed to M. Roper
and his wife ( being dated two daies after) falling without the
compasse
of the law, was adiudged good, and valide. Syr
Thomas
More being now prisoner in the Tower, and one day looking forth at
his window, saw a Father of Syon (named M. Reynolds)
and
three monkes of the Charterhouse, going out of the Tower to execution,
for that they had refused the Oath of Supremacy: wherupo[n], he
languishing
[as] it were with desyre to beare them company sayd vnto his daughter Roper
then present: Looke Megge, doest thou not see that these
blessed
Fathers be now going as cherefully to their deathes, as Bridegromes to
their marriages? By which thou mayst see (myne owne dere daughter) what
a great difference there is betweene such as haue spent all their dayes
in a religiious, hard, and penitentiall life, and such as haue, in this
world, like wretches (as thy poore Father heere hath done) consume all
their tyme in pleasure and ease. For which God, out of his gracious
Goodness
wil no lo[n]ger suffer them to remayne heere in this vale of misery and
iniquity, but wil speedily translate them he[n]ce into the fruitio[n]
of
his euerlasting Deity. Whereas thy sily Father, Megge, who like
a most wicked caytiffe hath passed the whole course of his miserable
life
most sinfully, God thinking him not worthy to attayne so soone
thereunto,
leaueth here him in the world, to be further tryed, plunged [and]
turmoyled
in misery. Within a
whyle
after, M. Secretary came to him from the King, and pretending
much
friendship towardes him said, that the Kings Highnes was his good and
gracious
Lord, not mynding any matter thenceforward, wherein he should haue
cause
of scruple to trouble his conscience. As soone as M. Secretary
was
departed to expresse what comforte he receiued of his speaches, he
tooke
a coale (for pen & inke then he had none) & wrote these lynes
following. Eye-flattering Fortune,
looke
thou n'ere so fayre,Nor n'ere soe pleasantly,
begin
to smyle, As though thou wouldst my
ruines
all repayre; During my life thou shalt
not
me beguile.Trust I shall, God, to
enter
in a while Thy Heauen of Heauens, sure
and
vniforme. Euer after a calme, looke I
for
a storme. Now Syr
Thomas
More, had continued almost six weekes in the Tower, before the Lady
his wife could obteyne licence to visit him. Who at her first comming
to
him (like a good simple worldly woman) bluntly saluted him in this
manner:
What a good-eare M. More, I meruaile that you who haue ben
alwayes
hitherto taken for so wise a man, will now so play the foole to ly here
in this close filthy prison, and be content to be thus shut vp amongst
mice and rats, when you might be abroad at your liberty, with the
fauour
and good will both of the King and his Counsell, if you would but do as
all the Bishops, & best learned of the Realme haue done? And since
you haue at Chelsey a right fayre house, your Library, your
Bookes,
your Garden, your Orchard, & all other necessaryes ha[n]dsome about
you; where also you might, in the co[m]pany of me your wife, Children
and
houshold be merry; I muse what a Gods Name you meane thus fo[n]dly to
tarry
here? After he
had
a while quietly heard her, with a cheerefull cou[n]tenance he said vnto
her. I pray thee good MrsAlice tell me one
thinge.
What is that, quoth she? Is not this house as neere Heauen as myne
owne?
whereto after her accustomed homely fashion not liking such speaches
she
answered: Tille-valle, Tille-valle. How say you MrsAlice, is it not so (quoth he?) Bone Deus, bone Deus,
man,
will your old Tricks neuer be left (quoth she againe?) Well then MrsAlice, said he, if it be so, it is very well; for I see no
great
cause, why I should ioy much either in my gay house, or in any thing
belonging
thereunto, when as if I should but liue seauen yeares vnder ground, and
then rise againe and come thither, I should not fayle to find some
dwelling
therein, that would bid me get out of doores, & tell me it were
none
of myne. What cause then haue I to loue such a house, as would so soone
forget his old Maister? So as her perswasions moued him nothing at
all. Not lo[n]g
after
this there came vnto him, the Lord Chancellour, the Dukes of Norfolke,
and Suffolke, with Maister Secretary, and diuers of the priuy
Counsell,
at two seuerall tymes, who vsed all possible policy to procure him
either
precisely to Co[n]fesse the Supremacy, or directly to deny it.
Whereunto
(as appeareth by the booke of his Examinations) they could neuer bring
him, or iustly taxe him for the contrary. Shortly
heereupon,
one M. Rich (created afterwardes Lord Rich) that then
was
newly made the Kings Sollocitour, Syr Richard Southwell, &
one M. Palmer seruant to the Secretary; were sent vnto Syr
Thomas
More vnder colour of fetching his Bookes away from him. And whilst Syr
Richard Southwell, and M. Palmer were busy in packing
them vp, M. Rich pretending friendly discourse with him,
amongst
other things (of set purpose as it seemed) said thus vnto him: For as
much
as it is well knowne M. More, that you are a man both wise, and
well learned, as well in the lawes of the Realme, as otherwise, I pray
you therefore, let me in courtesy, and good will be so bold to put you
this case. Admit there were Syr an Act of Parlament, that all
the
Kingdome should take me for King, would not you then M. More,
take
me for King? Yes, marry, (quoth Syr Thomas More) that would I.
Then
I put case further (quoth M. Rich: Admit there were an Act of
Parlament,
that all the Realme should take me for Pope, would you not then M.
More
take me for Pope? For answere (quoth Syr Thomas More) to your
first
case, the Parlament may well (M. Rich) meddle with the state of
temporall Princes; but to make answere to your later case: Suppose the
Parlament would make a law, that God should not be God: would you M. Rich,
then say, that God were not God? No Syr (quoth he) that would I
not. No more (quoth Syr Thomas More) as M. Rich after
reported
of him, could the Parlament make the King supreme head of the Church.
And
so M. Rich, with the rest departed. Now vpon
the
only report of this speach of Syr Thomas More was indited of
Treason,
vpon the Statute, whereby it was made Treason to deny the King to be
Supreme
head of the Church: unto which Inditement, were put these heynous
words, Maliciously, Traitrously, and Diabolically.
Whereupon presently
after he was brought fro[m] the Tower to answere the Inditement at the
Kings Bench barre; & being there arraigned before the Iudges, he
openly
told the[m]; That he could be content to haue abiden the rigour of the
law by this their inditement, but then he should be driuen to confesse
falsely of himselfe the matter indeed, which was the denyall of the
Kings
Supremacy, and which he protested was most vntrue. Wherefore he pleaded
therto not guilty, and so reserued vnto himselfe aduantage to be taken
of the body of the matter, after verdict, to auoyd that Inditement. And
moreouer he added; That if these only odious tearmes Maliciously,
Trayterously,
& Diabolically were left out of the Inditement, he saw
nothing
therin, wherwith iustly to charge him. Then for
proofe
alleaged vnto the Iury, that Syr Thomas More was guilty of this
Treason, M. Rich was called forth, to giue euidence vpon his
Oath,
as he did against him. To whome, hauing sworne, Syr Thomas More
spake in this wise: If this Oath of yours be true M. Rich, then
I pray God, that I may neuer see him in the face in his Kingdome; which
I would not say, were it otherwise, to gayne the whole world. Then
recounted
he to the Court, the whole discourse, of all their Conference, and
putting
of Cases in the Tower, according to the Truth. And turning to M.
Rich
he said: In good fayth M. Rich, I am more sory for your Periury
then for myne owne perill. And besides, you shall vnderstand, that
neither
I, nor any man else to my knowledge, euer tooke you to be a man of such
credit, as to communicate vnto you any matter of importance; and (you
well
know) I haue ben acquainted with you no small while, and haue knowne
you,
& your Conuersation from your very youth; for we dwelled lo[n]g
together
in one Parish; where, as your selfe can tell best, (I am sory you
compell
me so to say) you were esteemed very light of your tongue, a great
Dicer,
and of no commendable Fame, or Name: Can it therefore seeme likely to
your
Lordships, that I would in so weighty a matter, so vnaduisedly
ouershoote
my self, as to trust M. Rich (a man reputed alwayes by me, and
others
for one of litle truth, as your Lordships haue heard) so farre, aboue
my
Soueraigne the King, or aboue any of his noble Counsellours, that I
would
vtter vnto him the secrets of my Conscience, touching the Kings
Supremacy?
The speciall poynt and only marke so long aymed at in all my actions?
The
thing which I neuer did, or euer wold offer to the Kings Maiesty
himselfe?
or to any of his Honourable Counsell, as it is not vnknowne vnto your
Honours,
who sundry tymes haue byn sent vnto me, into the Tower from his Highnes
owne person, for no other purpose? Can this in your Iudgments, my
Lords,
seeme to stand with truth, in any likelihood? And yet if I had so laid
indeed (my Lordes) as M. Rich hath falsly sworne, since it was
spoken,
as he sayth, in familiar talke, affirming nothing, and only in putting
of cases, without other displeasant circumstances, it cannot iustly be
taken to be spoken Maliciously, and where there is no Malice,
there can be no Offence. And besides
this
(my Lordes,) I can neuer thinke, that so many worthy Bishops, so many
honourable
Personages, and so many other worshipfull, wise and well learned men,
as
were assembled at the making of that Law in the Parlament, euer meant
to
haue any man punished by death, in whome there could be found no Malice:
for if Malice be taken for Sinne generally, then there
is
no man that can excuse himselfe therof: Si Dixerimus, quód
peccatum
non habemus &c. And as for the terme Maliciously, it is
not in this Statute to be taken for Materiall; as in like case
you
know the terme Forcible, is meant in Forcible Entry; by
which
Statute if a man enter patiently, and put not his Aduersary out
forcibly,
it is no offence: but if he put him out forcibly, by that
Statute
it is an Offence, and so shalbe punished by this terme forcible. Moreouer
(my
Lords) the manifold goodnes of the Kings Highnes himselfe, who hath ben
so many wayes my singular good Lord, & gracious soueraygne, who
hath
alwaies deerly affected me, and euen at my first coming vnto his Royal
seruice, aduan[n]ced me to the dignity of his Honourable priuy
Counsell,
vouchsafing to admit me afterward to Offices of great credit and
Honour,
and lastly, to exalt me to that weighty roome of his Maiestyes high
Chauncellour,
(the like whereof he neuer did to any temporal man his subiect before)
next to his owne Royal person the highest Office in this noble
kingdome,
so farre aboue my merit or desert, and this for the space of aboue
twenty
years togeather, shewing his continuall fauour towards me, vntill at
myne
owne poore suite (giuing me his gracious licence to bestow the litle
residue
of my life, in the seruice of God, for the good of my soule) it pleased
his highnes of his especiall goodnes, to discharge and disburden me
therof:
now all this his highnes fauour (I say) thus bou[n]tifully extended,
&
so long continued towardes me considered, as it ought, in my mind is
sufficient
to co[n]vince this slaunderous surmise of M. Rich, so
wrongfully
sworne agaynst me. When Syr
Thomas
More had thus spoken, M. Rich seing himselfe so disproued,
and
his credit so fouly disgraced, caused Sir Richard Southwell, &
M. Palmer (who were also present at the time of their
Conference
in his Chamber) to be sworne, what wordes had passed betwixt the[m].
Whereupon M. Palmer vpon his deposition said; That he was so
busy,
in putting
vp Syr Thomas Mores Bookes into a sacke, that he tooke no heed
of
their speaches. Sir Richard Southwell likewise vpon his
deposition
said; That because he was only appoynted to looke vnto the conueya[n]ce
of his Bookes, he gaue no great eare vnto what they sayd. After this,
many
other reasons & arguments were alleadged by Syr Thomas More,
in defence of his owne Innocency, & to the discredit of M. Rich,
in the forsaid point; Notwithstanding all which, the Iury found him
guilty,
and immediatly vpon their verdict, the Lord Chauncellour (for that
businesse
there chiefe commissioner) beginning to prceed to Iudgment against him,
Syr Tho. More said vnto him. My Lord,
when
I my selfe was towardes the Law, the ma[n]ner in such cases was, to
aske
the Prisoner before sentence of Co[n]demnatio[n], why Iudgme[n]t should
not be giue[n] agaynst him? Whervpon the Lord Cha[n]cellour staying the
sentence (wherein he had partly begun to proceed) demaunded of him,
What
he was able to say for himselfe, to the contrary? Then Syr Tho.
More,
in this sort, most humbly made answere. For asmuch
as,
my Lordes, (quoth he) this Iudgment is grounded vpon an Act of
Parlament
directly repugna[n]t to the lawes of God & his holy Church the
supreme
gouernement of which, or any part thereof, no temporall Prince may
presume
by any temporall law, to take vpon him, as rightfully belonging to the
Sea of Rome: a spirituall preheminence conferred, and granted,
by
the mouth of our Sauiour himselfe, being personally present vpon the
Earth,
only vnto S. Peter the Apostle, and his lawfull Successors,
Bishops
of the same Sea by special prerogatiue; It is not therefore sufficient
inough for one Christian Catholike man to charge, and conuince another
Christian Catholike man, & say, that this Realme of England
(being but a member, & a small part only of the Church of Christ)
hath
power and authority to make a particular law, disagreable to the
generall
law of Christs Vniuersall Catholique Church; no more then the Citty of London,
being but one poore member in respect of the whole Kingdome, might make
a law agaynst an Act of Parlament, to bind the whole Realme. And
further
he shewed, that it was co[n]trary both to the ancient Lawes, &
Statutes
of our owne Realme not the[n] repealled, as they might well see in Magna
Carta; Quod Ecclesia libera sit, & habeat omnia iura integra, &
libertates suas illæsas; and contrary likewise to that sacred
Oath, which the Kings Highnes himselfe, and euery other Christian
Prince
of this realme with great Solemnity, hath euer taken at their
Coronation.
Alleaging moreouer, that no more might this Realme of England
refuse
obediance to the Sea of Rome, then that the child might refuse
Obedience
to his naturall Father: for as S. Paul sayth of the Corinthians,
I haue regenerated you my Children in Christ; so might holy S.
Gregory
Pope of Rome, of whome (by S. Augustine his messenger) we
Englishmen
first receiued the Christian fayth, truly say, You are my Children,
because I haue giuen you euerlasting saluation (a farre, and
better,
& more noble Inheritance, then any carnall Father can leaue to his
Children) & by regeneration made you my Children in Christ. To this
speach
of Syr Thomas More the Lord Chancellor answered; That seeing
all
the Bishops, vniuersities, & best learned of the Realme, had to
this
Act of Parlament agreed, it was very greatly to be admired, that he
alone,
agaynst them all, would so stifly sticke, and argue so vehemently
against
it. To this Syr
Thomas More againe replyed, saying: If the nu[m]ber of Bishops and
Vniuersities be so materiall, as your Lordship seemeth to take it; then
I see little cause, my Lord, why that thing should make any change at
all
in my Co[n]science. For I nothing doubt (though not in this Realme, yet
in Christendome round about, the nu[m]ber of learned men and Bishops to
be farre greater, who will defend and maintayne the contrary; and
therefore
am I not bou[n]den to conforme my co[n]science to the Councell of one
Kingdome,
against the generall Cou[n]cell of Christendome. Now, when Syr
Thomas More for the auoyding of the Inditement had taken as many
exceptions
as he thought fit, the Lord Chancellour loath to haue the burden of
that
Iudgment wholy to depend vpon himselfe there openly asked the aduise of
the Lord Fitz-Iames (then Lord chiefe Iustice of the Kings
Bench
and ioyned in commission with him) whether this Inditement were
sufficient
or no. Who, like a discreet man, answered: My Lordes, (quoth he) by S.
Iulian (that was euer his oath) I must needs co[n]fesse, that if
the
Act of Parlament be not vnlawfull, then is not the Inditement in my
conscience
insufficient. Whereupon the Lord Chancellour said to the rest of the
Commissioners;
Loe my Lordes, you all heare what my Lord chiefe Iustice sayth, &
so
immediatly he gaue Iudgment. Which being done the commissioners, yet
further
offered him curteously, all fauourable audience, if he would speake:
who
answered; I haue no more to say my Lords, but that, like as the Blessed
Apostle S. Paul (as we read in the Acts of the Apostles) was
present,
and consented to the death of S. Stephen, & kept their
clothes
that stoned him to death, and are now both holy Saintes in heauen; so I
verily trust, and shall right hartily pray, that though your Lordships
haue now heere in earth byn Iudges to my Condemnation, yet may we
hereafter
meete all togeather in euerlasting glory. After his
condemnation
he departed from the Barre towardes the Tower agayne, led by Sir
William
Kingston (a tall strong and comely knight) Constable of the Tower,
& his very deere frie[n]d, who whe[n] he had brought him a part of
the way towardes the Tower, with a heauy heart, the teares running
downe
his cheekes, bad him farwell. The which Syr Thomas More seeing,
comforted him with as good words as he could, saying: Good M. Kingston,
trouble
not your selfe, but be of good cheere, for I will pray for you, and my
good Lady your wife that we may meete togeather in Heaue[n], where we
shalbe
merry for euer and euer. And a little after Syr William Kingstone
meeting with M. Roper said: In good fayth M. Roper, I
was
ashamed of my selfe that at my departure from your Father, I found my
selfe
so feeble, and he so strong, that he was able to co[m]fort me, who
should
rather haue comforted him. As Syr
Tho.
More came neere vnto the Tower, his Daughter Roper desirous
to see her Father once more before his death, and to receaue his last
blessing,
gaue attendance about the Tower-wharfe, where he was to passe, & so
soone as she saw him, hastning vnto him, without respect of care of
herselfe,
pressed in among the throng of the Guard, that with halbards went round
about him, and there openly in the sight of all asking him blessing on
her knees imbrac't him, tooke him about the necke, and kissed him. Who
with a merry countenance, nothing at all deiected, gaue her his
Fatherly
blessing, with many Godly wordes of comfort, & the[n]
departed. So remayned
he
in the Tower more then eight dayes after his condemnation, from whence,
the day before he suffered, he sent his shirt of hayre (not willing to
haue it seene) to his said Daughter Roper, and a Letter written
with a cole (printed in the aforesaid booke of his workes) expressing
playnly
the feruent desyre he had to suffer on the Morrow, in these wordes
following:
I comber you, good Margaret very much, but I wold be sorry if
it
should be any longer, then to Morrow; for to Morrow is S. Thomas
of Canterbury his Eue, & therfore to Morrow long I to go to God; it
were a day very meete, and conuenient for me. I neuer liked your manner
better towardes me than when you last embraced me, and when daughterly
loue, and deare charity, haue no leasure to looke towards wordly
courtesy. Vpon the
Morrow,
according as he wished, earely in the morning there came vnto him Syr
Thomas Pope, his singular good friend, with a message from the King
and Counsell, that he must before nine of the clocke, the same morning,
suffer death, and he should forthwith prepare himself therto. M. Pope
(quoth he) for your good tydings, I most hartily thanke you. I haue
alwayes
ben much bound to the Kings highnes, for the many benefits, and honours
that he hath still from tyme to tyme most bountifully heaped vpon me;
especially
that it hath pleased his Maiesty, to put me here in this place, where I
haue had conuenient tyme and leasure to remember my last End; and now
most
of all am I bound vnto his Grace, that I shall be shortly rid out of
the
miseries of this wretched life, & therfore will I not fayle to pray
earnestly for his Grace, both heere & in the other world also. The Kings
pleasure
is further (quoth Syr Thomas Pope) that at your execution you
shall
not vse many words. M. Pope (quoth he) you do well to giue me
warning
of the Kings pleasure, for otherwise I might haue offended his Maiesty
agaynst my will. I had indeed purposed at that tyme, to haue spoken
somwhat,
but of no matter of offe[n]ce to his Grace; neuertheles what soeuer I
intended,
I am ready to conforme my selfe obediently to his commandement. And I
beseech
you, good M. Pope, be a means vnto his Maiesty that my daughter
Margaret
may be at my Buriall. The King is contented already (quoth Syr
Thomas
Pope) that your wife, children, and other of your Friends haue
libery
to be present therat. O how much am I bound vnto his grace (quoth Syr
Thomas More) that vouchsafeth to haue so gracious a consideration
of
my poore Buriall. Whereupo[n] Syr Tho. Pope taking his leaue
cold
not forbeare weeping: which Syr Tho. More perceyuing, comforted
him in this wise. Quiet your selfe good M. Pope, and be not
discomforted,
for I trust we shall one day se ech other in heaue[n], where we shal be
sure to liue, and loue together in ioyfull blisse eternally. Vpon Syr
Thomas
Popes departure, he changed himselfe into his best apparel, as one
that had bin inuited to some sole[m]ne feast, which M. Lieutenant
seing, aduised him to put it off, saying, that he that was to haue it,
was but a Iauell. What M. Lieutena[n]t (quoth he) shall I
accompt
him a Iauell, that shall do me this day so singuler a benefit? Nay I
assure
you were it cloth of Gold, I would accompt it very well bestowed vpon
him,
as S. Cyprian did, who gaue to his Executioner, thirty peeces
of
Gold. Yet through the Lieutenants persuasions he altered his Apparell,
and after the Exa[m]ple of the forsayd holy Martyr, he gaue that litle
money he had left, to his Executioner, which was one Angell of
Gold. Then was he
by
M. Lieutena[n]t broght out of the Tower, & fro[m] thence
led
towards the place of Execution, vpon the Tower-hil, where going vp the
Scaffold which was weake, & ready to fall, he said smilingly to M.
Lieutena[n]t: I pray you, good M. Lieutena[n]t see me safe
vp,
& for my coming downe let me shift for my selfe. Then desired he
all
the people about him to pray for him, & to beare witnesse that he
should
now there suffer death in & for the fayth of the Holy Catholique
Church.
Which done he kneeled downe, and after his prayers sayd he turned to
the
Executioner, & with a chereful countenance spake thus merrily vnto
him: Plucke vp thy spirits man, and be not afrayd to do thine Office:
my
necke is somwhat short, therefore take heed thou strikest not awry, for
sauing of thine honesty: but if thou doest, vpon my word I wil not
heerafter
cast it in thy teeth. So, at one stroke of the Executioner, passed Syr
Thomas More out of this world, to God, vpon the same day, which
himselfe
had most desired. 6. Iulij. 1535. Soone after
his
death, intellige[n]ce therof came vnto the Emperour Charles the
fifth, wherevpon he sent for Syr Thomas Eliot, then Embassadour
there, & said vnto him: My Lord Embassadour, we vnderstand, that
the
King your Maister hath put his faythfull seruant, & graue
Cou[n]sellour
to death, Syr Thomas More. Whereunto Syr Thomas Eliot
answered,
that he had heard nothing thereof. Well (quoth the Emperour) it is too
true, & this will I say, that if I had byn Maister of such a
Seruant
(of whose counsailes, and performance in State matters my selfe haue
had
these many yeares no small experience) I would rather haue lost the
best
Citty of my dominions the[n] such a worthy Counsellour. Which speach of
the Emperour was afterward related by Syr Thomas Eliot vnto M.
William Roper, & his wife, being with him at supper, in the
presence
of one M. Clement, M. Heywood, and their wiues.